A Wolf Amidst the Sheep
by JulieVans
Summary: Edward meets Bella as she's engaging in questionable activities late at night. Will Edward be compelled to protect her? When Edward learns of her 'special ability' can he even tolerate her? Later, the story follows Jasper. Morality takes a hike with a knife and a penchant for depravity. Canon species/pairings. Bella with a dark twist. (Chapters are IN REVISION).
1. Chapter 1

**A Wolf Amidst the Sheep**

**Summary: Edward meets Bella while she's up to no good – late at night – in the woods near his home. Will he and the family intervene in her nocturnal activities? Or will Edward be compelled to protect her – and even help her out? Canon species and pairings – Bella with a dark twist.**

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He watched her from a distance for the thirteenth night as he silently advanced through the deciduous canopy. Leaping and jumping from tree to tree to be as close to her as possible. He wanted to see her face – something he had grown so fond of from a distance.

His inability to gleam a single thought from her had ebbed his curiosity about her to insatiable levels. Why was a girl coming out here night after night. Alone. What was she doing? The first night he came across her he was with his brothers, hunting elk.

To them she was nothing more than a mere human – a nuisance, in the way. They adverted from her to hunt elsewhere. To Edward, however, she was a terrifying siren. Only the crisp clean air of the night and physical distance from her kept him in control of the overpowering lust for her blood. It was blinding and all consuming.

It was addictive.

For a myriad of reasons; he had committed himself to following her, watching her. Protecting her from all things. Himself, others. He was wrapped up in self-misery, struggling to understand what part of him was protecting her. The inner animal or the husk of a man.

Tonight - she was not alone.

He sat anticipating her approach as she had done for almost two entire weeks. He was instantly overcome with emotions of anger and rage when he realized his midnight beauty was not by herself. She was walking hand in hand in the night. To the eyes of anyone else this might seem as something innocent and casual. To Edward's perception, though, this seemed like anything but. Her footsteps and heartbeat were twined with another's; a foul symphony in the air.

The thoughts of the teen-aged male with her were all focused on one thing. He had considered various positions, too. A tree. A rock. An old shack with a collapsed roof. Edward had cringed at all of these thoughts. They stirred long dormant feelings and emotions that were heavy and thick. Blinding. Just as he was about to turn away from the offensive male's perverse mind he heard her name.

Isabella.

Isabella Swan.

Knowing her name – he was torn. Elated and disturbed.

Torn between a sudden compulsion to kill the offending young male – and the desire to find out why Isabella had insisted on bringing him out here. Surely Edward wouldn't have to be subjected to their sexual escapades. The very idea of Isabella having intercourse with anyone was staggering, offensive and repulsive.

Isabella seemed much too – good – for that. She always seemed superior. Above and beyond the average human; braving the woods alone at night. Knowing her way in the darkness, fearing nothing.

Edward, no matter how much he wanted to, just couldn't bring himself to leave her. He was drawn to her. Inexplicably. To her blood only at first - but now, it was more.

As sexually charged fantasies with Isabella filtered into his mind for the first time Edward found himself suddenly craving her body. Something he had never experienced before. Arousal – entirely foreign to him. Such a shocking and overpowering sensation and compulsion.

Seething over the events of the night – his late night secret date with Isabella now entirely ruined – he groaned with misery.

He asked himself _why this – why now?_ It made no sense to Edward – his conflict over her. His inability to just leave her be. Even at such a great distance she was beckoning to him through her many wiles. Her scent, her hair, her eyes, her mystery, her silent mind, her body.

She stopped.

They stopped.

Fingers clasped together. She turned to the male – away from Edward's view. Quickly he leapt to a nearby tree and fled to the far reaching branch of the towering cedar to see her face.

She was smiling – something Edward had never seen before. It was a stunning and glorious smile rivaling that of every female Edward had ever laid eyes on. Living and inhuman alike. If his heart could beat it would have ruptured. She was more captivating than ever before.

Edward's mood turned sullen, though, when the realization that the smile was not meant for him. Could never be meant for him. He was a monstrous killer – a cold blooded murderer. By his very nature he was damned. Someone like Isabella could never look upon him with such a vivid expression of love and compassion. Someone like Isabella would never freely give herself physically to him. He was a hideous creature spawned from the depths of hell itself.

His existence was an offensive act against God.

Edward was so lost in his self-hatred and loathing that he hadn't realized Isabella and the male were now deep in a tense discussion.

"I've told you this before. I didn't do it, I swear…" He defended himself to her. His hands raised to pacify her sudden anger and apparently unwarranted accusation. "You told me you believed me. Why are you asking me, again?"

Her eyes now glassy, her expression was tense, cold and harsh.

Edward scanned the males mind – and hissed at the onslaught of guilt and villainous thoughts now turning against Isabella. No, there was no innocence there. In the males thoughts he gleamed the rush of memories as he tied a young woman up - then slit her throat while pleasuring himself to her dying gasps.

Isabella – was certainly in danger. Edward was suddenly gripped with rage. What was she thinking? Why was she coaxing someone who was a vile, sadistic animal? Did she have no sense of self-preservation at all? He cursed her silent mind and her insanity. He didn't want to believe that she knew - but it was evident in her questioning that she did know. She knew all too well what the male in front of her was guilty of.

Edward was reeling with conflicted thoughts. He wanted to protect her from the male but couldn't do so without risking exposure of himself, his family. There was no way to do this without showing himself, or creating a dire situation.

He watched the male's thoughts with tethered rage, if he made one move to strike out at Isabella – Edward would act. He could see, though, that the male had yet to come to a conclusion. Instead, he was trying to still defend himself against her accusations. Thinking of makeup sex as a reward. The thought made Edward hiss again in defiance and disgust. At least the male's murderous thoughts were no longer focused towards her. His lust for her was far more powerful than that.

Edward kept his eyes locked onto her face – her stone, harsh look. Derision, finality and – vengeance – in her eyes. Yes, she knew what this male had done. She had brought him here to confront him. Edward smiled – a hint of pride in his feelings, now. Another reason to admire Isabella. She had a penchant for truth and life.

Then, he watched in horror as the expression on her face faded to a sense of calm. Now she was giving an apology. The male was relieved? _That's ok_ – Edward thought – _walk away safely and I will just prune the world of this male's atrocious existence on your behalf_. Yes, he could do that. He would do that. He would protect her, defend her, and keep her safe.

Isabella wrapped one arm around his neck and drew him to her in an embrace. Edward was overcome with hurt and disgust. How could she? Couldn't she sense him here, the strength of his feelings for her – wasn't it palpable in the air? He felt it like a separate entity. It was strong and vibrant, he felt it with every shred of his being.

Suddenly the male's body slumped over her. Edward tensed, was he making a move to harm her? The male's thoughts were taken by shock and then a flood of pain. Intense and searing pain that reached out from his lungs. He gasped for air – panic set in as the searing, crippling pain sent shocks through his body. Intense and overwhelming. Thoughts of violence, the want of a weapon to defend himself. The crippling pain and loss of breath was too much.

The male groaned out, unable to form coherent thoughts and words. Just pain, shock, the struggle to breath. The intense need to breath. It hurt to breath, he couldn't. He couldn't expand his lungs to take in air. He wanted to claw out his failing lung. He pawed at his chest but his strength was fading. A river of sticky sweetness poured from around his fingers, trickled down the thick fabric of his coat and gushed to the forest floor. It pooled and filled the leaves, seeped into the mossy ground. The earth drunk him in. The forest was filled with the deafening rhythm of his frantic heart as it pumped adrenaline-charged blood through his body.

Edward knew this sensation, this sound, this feeling. It was death coming to call.

Isabella was a force to be reckoned with.

Isabella was the Grim Reaper.

Isabella was a wolf amidst the sheep.

The males body was now slumped to the forest floor, his hands clawing into the earth, clawing at Isabella's feet and ankles, slicking against the smoothness with a wet squeals. The glorious aroma of blood filled the air. It was vibrant and intoxicating. Yet it did not stir Edward's inner beast. The male continued to fall into the deep, into the dark. He was trying to find strength where there was none. Trying to seek purchase on life when it was slipping away. There was nothing to cling to that could fix this.

Isabella was the deliverer of a precise death. Delivered with a quick slip of a knife into the lung between the ribs. A close, quick upward thrust brought this villainous beast to his knees and tossed him into the gaping maw of hell itself.

She stood strong, solid, unhurt and serene. A vision like that of Venus from the waves in the moonlight, in the darkness. Death at her feet. Her face smooth and flawless in the night.

Within minutes it was over. The horrible, deafening rhythm of the dying heart had ceased entirely. It was now just Edward – and Isabella. In the forest alone, again. As it should be.

Edward watched in fascination as Isabella brought the knife to her lips – and inhaled the sweet fragrance of life's precious elixir. Astonishing. Arousing. Likely the most erotic act he had ever seen a woman engage in. Watching her kill a human was nothing like watching a vampire kill a creature – human or otherwise. This was pornographic.

He was further astonished as she reached into her purse and pulled out a small triangular shaped object, then dropped her bag to the ground. A folded shovel. He was wrapped up with fascination. She pried open the handle, walked a few paces away, and knelt down on the ground. With calm dedication she went about digging. A grave.

Edward dropped down to branches that hugged the ground. He needed to see her face as she toiled to complete her task. After a short while sweat began to shine across her skin. She stripped off her coat and fished a pair of gloves out of the pocket. Beautiful small droplets by the thousands glistened on her skin. They collected, ran together, and dripped off her nose and fingers. The salty tang of perspiration mingled in the air with her delectable scent.

The rhythmic hammering of her heart and deep, steady breathing as she paced herself permeated the air.

Edward was transfixed. Enthralled by her muscles as she worked methodically. Spaying into the earth and prying up shovel after shovel of clotted soil. Tossing it aside with a flick. Never before had Edward witnessed such an act. It was mesmerizing. Predictable, time consuming, but astounding to witness.

She was wearing a sleek grey skirt and a cream blouse, untainted by the flow of blood, the flesh of her back exposed as her shirt rode upward with her efforts. Her skin creamy and pale. A pinkish peach hue. Her hair threaded into a braid – cascading down her back. An erotic sight. Edward's arousal built – venom pooled in his mouth yet his mind was transfixed on this stunning sight. Not on his lust for her blood. Isabella; his fixation – committing herself to physical labor.

It was heavenly.

She was a murderous vixen. Edward couldn't care less about that, though. To him, Isabella was purity and divinity. Sunday Morning. She was a goddess with him out here under the moonlight. Her deed was their dirty, dark little secret that he swore to keep without her needing to ask.

The thought filtered through his mind that he wanted to know Isabella.

Find out why she did this. Had she done it before? What drove her to commit to this act? Surely she could have gone to the police. This just added to her mystery. Added to her carnal appeal. Images of Edward and Isabella twined together intimately on the forest floor came to his mind. He could take her on the soil, against the tree and on the rock. This, from the male, felt hideously wrong. With him and her – it felt entirely right.

He leapt from his perch, being on the ground – though so far away – for the first time when she was near. A thrill of nerves ran through is body as he felt the vibrations from her laborious work tremor through the soil beneath him. He wanted her – and he wanted her now. The hideous monster that stalked the world through his eyes day and night was gloriously overridden and blinded by Edward's newfound need for her. Isabella – flesh to flesh.

For the first time in the whole of his vampire existence he lusted for the physical. She was human – it didn't matter.

He took a few steps in her direction – silent as he ghosted across the tundra floor. She stopped her digging for the first time. Edward stilled himself – surely she hadn't heard him approaching. No, she was only resting herself.

He took a few more slow, quiet steps towards her – eyes tracing over her form as she labored in the night. He could sense her body heat. Quite aware of her overpowering scent but his fixation on her body as she flexed and troweled the soil was far more intense. An all new beast had been unleashed.

He was now a mere few feet away from her. Heat poured off of her in waves. He could hear the soft drip of perspiration as it fell from her flesh to the matted earth below. Her clothing was saturated with the salty sweat. Edward wanting nothing more than to strip her soiled clothing away and worship her body with his eyes, fingers and tongue under the moonlight.

Again, she stopped. This time she took a step back and dropped the shovel to the ground. He tried desperately to read her thoughts as he had done so many times in recent days. Still nothing. She was just as much of a mystery – even more so now, adding murder in cold blood to her list of intrigues. Not just murder – but a detective, one skilled at her work. Edward once sought out villains of the male's nature. He once used his power of telepathy to play God. Just as Isabella had played Goddess in the night. Choosing who would live and who would die.

All, now, that Edward wanted to do was play God to her delectable body. She was no villain.

They both stood still – the air only permeated by the sound of her sweat slowly dripping to the ground, her panting breaths, and her intense heartbeat. The blood rushed violently through her veins in a hushed rhythm. Her body jutted ever so slightly with the rocking pulse. Like the ebb and flow of a glorious tide.

"I know you're there." She said quietly, barely a whisper. Just a thin, wafting breath of air through her lips.

For the first time since the wave of lust overcame him – it waned enough for him to think through it. How did she know?

"I wondered just how far I would have to go before you'd approach me." She whispered, just a light murmur.

His throat tensed. His mind rushed through the possibilities. He began to doubt her humanity yet her breathing, sweat and blood weren't artifice. He was human, however different from all the rest.

Swallowing the venom that had pooled under his tongue without his awareness, "Isabella."

He watched with fascination as a violent shudder ran through her body. Saying her name out loud – and seeing the effect it had on her – stoked his lust for her again. He took another silent step forward, reaching a hand out to touch her.

"Edward."

He snatched his hand back as if it had touched a nipping flame. His mind was reeling again, his thoughts were lost. She chuffed quietly.

Through the thick stream of venom that coated his tongue he asked, "How do you know who I am, Isabella?"

His thoughts continued to swirl, a multitude of feelings fighting for dominance. His breathing increased, his body tensed. Now panic; how did she know? What did she know? Was his family in danger of being discovered?

"Edward, are you ok?" She questioned.

For such an eloquently spoken male he was speechless and lost for the first time in his long life.

She stood silent while he regained his senses and began to think more clearly. _How does she know? _He thought – over and over. Trying to figure her out. How did she sense he was there?

"I know what you are, Edward, but I won't tell. I know that's what you're afraid of."

Yes, but that was only part of his fear. "Are you afraid of me, then, Isabella?"

"No. Edward, I am not afraid of you."

His thoughts raced back to where they were before – a deafening cacophony of thoughts and feelings. Wants and desires.

"Why are you not afraid?"

"You're not the only one feeling this…_tension_…Edward."

He didn't know what to think of that. The tension – as he felt it? He doubted that she could feel the same way he did.

"Edward, can I turn and see you?" She spoke over her shoulder now – turning just slightly in his direction.

His mind raced – no. He didn't want her to see him, see the monster. She'd be horrified and repulsed.

He hesitated to answer – his other half wanted her to see him, and so much more.

"Edward. Did you not just see me and what I've done?"

_Yes, I watched you. _A fresh wave of lust swept over him as he relived the moment.

"Yet here you are…and here I am. What are you afraid of?"

"I don't know." He swallowed down the venom again that had all but lost its tangy burn. He couldn't deny her – he watched her with intensity as she slowly turned to face him. For the first time they were eye to eye. Predator and Prey. The prey, this time, had a considerable advantage. The prey, this time, had powers of persuasion. This time the prey had something that Edward wanted more than blood itself.

"I was right – far from hideous. You're quite stunning to look at." She smiled. "Yet you think it's only the mark of the inner beast, don't you?"

He bathed himself in the warmth of her breath as it caressed his cheeks. "How do you know what I am?"

She smiled, coyly. "I know everything, Edward. Being a…Vampire…surely you know that there are many strange and mysterious things in the world. Did you believe you were the only one who was…different?"

Edward was trapped by her eyes; pupils dilated to large disks of black amid dark brown streaked with green.

He returned her smile, "You're heavenly, Isabella." He eyed the body laying a few feet away, cold and still. "Do you need help…with anything?"

The most fascinating and enthralling sounds escaped from her lips, she laughed.

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**Authors Note: Thanks for reading. I'm not sure what I want to do with this – it was just a scene concept but after having written it I have ideas for where to take it. I might continue it into a full story. Obviously this Bella has some dark secrets and some impressive powers – for a human.**

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**2nd Author's Note: 3/27/2013 - I've edited this chapter to take care of some grammar, continuity, punctuation and syntax issues.**

**Be patient with this story. Why she kills is slowly revealed as the story progresses - as are bits and pieces about her as a person and what drives her. Some parts might not make sense right away - there's nothing I'm going to do about that. It's a crime/suspense of sorts . . . all is learned and revealed in good time, My Pretties, all in good time :) I was tempted numerous times while writing to change points of view to let everyone into her head - to explain her better. But decided that just ruined the story. You're in for the long haul with Edward as he's drug through Isabella's twisted twilight and you learn as he learns what the heck is up with Isabella.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A Wolf Amidst the Sheep – Chapter 2**

It took her several more hours to finish digging out the makeshift grave. So much work for someone who wasn't worth it, he mused. Edward sat silent as he was told, mesmerized as she worked the opening deeper into the earth. Her muscles flexing with every movement. The way her back arched, curved and spooned with purpose.

The inner workings of her mind entirely silent. The visual almost made up for it. Her scent swirled and danced in the air, biting and stinging his throat with a racking pain.

Not once did she look at him while she worked. All the while keeping a look of collected calm on her face. Thinking through different possibilities of what she was; a sociopath, a serial killer? Then there was the matter of her knowledge, 'I know everything,' she said. What exactly was everything? Everything about him – about his family?

Her surname; Swan. Told him little.

Yes – she was as stunning as a swan, that much was sure.

Once the hole was dug to her liking she went to the body as it lay crumpled in a lifeless heap. Down on hands and knees, she slowly rolled, shoved and heaved it to the grave.

Edward said nothing. He had to physically hold back from the urge to offer assistance. It seemed immoral to let her do all of this work. Yet it was immoral that she was doing this to begin with. Edward was entirely torn. As he watched he thought back to his renegade days; oh so long ago. Never in his life had he seen a female do the work of a heinous killer. Her feminine beauty gave the act a sensual flare. She saw to her act with a feminine grace.

Suddenly the fables of Bloody Mallory dipped in the blood of ten virgins sounded alluring. How appealing would Isabella look painted with the striking crimson and glistening ribbons of red?

Immediately he felt disgusted at the idea – and how much he wanted to see it happen.

Finally – after many more hours – she was done. The deed was buried, the earth was tamped. A few select rocks were strewn over the top.

Now it was truly just them; alone in the night.

There was nothing he could draw on in all of years of being a telepath and acting as a human that helped him know what to do next. She stood, watching him watching her.

As if her attraction and allure hadn't reached a peak many hours ago – she stooped and pulled a bottle of water from her purse. Shivering while she drank it down; it's iciness nipping at her. The sounds of it gushing down her throat as she swallowed mouthful after mouthful, the muscles flexing and working, her rosy lips curling around the bottle's opening - all of these things were enthralling. He clenched his jaw as he thought about how indescribable the sensation would be; him latching onto her throat and drinking her crimson in that same way.

The visual of his own self swallowing her down was not alluring, however, it was repulsive. That quelled his mind from continuing further down that dangerous path.

Turning in the direction she came from, "Do you mind walking with me?"

"No, I think I would like that," He said, standing from his seat on a felled pine.

That's what they did. The aroma of crisp, cold forest filled the air. The sound of twigs, bracken and leaves crunching under foot. With her, Edward found the sounds of footfalls to be quite soothing. Unnecessary for him, but soothing to make none the less. They walked at her pace until they reached an outcropping of granite caked with moss.

She stopped.

They stopped.

Isabella sat on the moist ground, resting against the stone. Motioning to the space next to her for him to sit. The barest amount of hesitation in his response.

"Thank you, Edward. Being with you is…pleasurable."

He smiled in return, yes, being with her was very pleasurable. Pleasurable and frightening. In an instant he wanted nothing more than to hole her away and keep her forever. She eyed the dark canopy overhead – he watched her neck stretch, her pulse more pronounced. Hands clenched into fists, his body tensed. Torn between wanting to just touch and wanting to just taste.

The throbbing pulse of her neck was riveting, how it rippled just under the skin in so many different unique and fascinating ways. His throat burned. For a brief moment he let his mind wander, seeing how it would be done. All the many positions he could take, the sounds she would make. He leaned towards her just slightly, unknowingly.

"You're staring."

Suddenly he was looking into her eyes – lost again in the depth of her streaked hazelnut. Her shift broke his hypnotic fascination. Eyes had a soul. A sense of abhorrent disgust swept over him again. He looked down.

"Edward? How was your day?" She asked, looking around at the forest floor nearby – tracing the winding, rambling roots with her eyes. The question came as if they were old friends, long time companions. She seemed so relaxed and at ease. Edward was out of his element and every bit of him sensed it – he was less than pleased with this vast difference between them.

He snapped his eyes from the ground to hers, to the glistening drops of dew that started to collect on her eyelashes. He was struck breathless as each drop reflected an array of Isabellas. Inspiration for Art.

"It was…bleak. Until I saw you," His lips raised at the corners to a smile.

Smiling in return, "Yes, my day was bleak, too. Until tonight." Her eyes held a glint of mischief, though. Yes, her day was much different than his.

Furrowing his brow. "Isabella…" He wanted to ask all sorts of things. Why did she do it? How old was she? Had she done it before? Would she do it again? Did she know he was out here every night with her? How did she know? What did she know?

None of the questions in his mind seemed – right – at the moment. She sat patient, expectant.

"Isabella…how was your day?" He asked, now getting lost in the warm, comforting earthy blankets of her eyes. They reminded him of jumping into leaf piles and rolling cubes of ice in a tumbler of sweet tea.

A smirk quickly crept across her lips and then changed into a shy smile. "Is bleak not good enough?"

Oh – she had already given the answer. He looked away, embarrassed. Where was his mind? More thoughts of touching her, raising his tentative fingers to take her hand into his. Tracing the curves of her fingers and knuckles. Modest, chaste touches.

"What do you do, Edward? In your bleak day?"

All sorts of jokes and bits of humor about resisting the urge to kill crept into his mind. Did she resist or did she always indulge? Again – why? He thought of how she brought the knife close to her face, how she had brought a man out here like a sheep to the abattoir and dispensed him. Furthermore, how did she know he was guilty? So many mysteries and nothing seemed like appropriate conversation for right now.

Finally answering her question, "Nothing really. I attend school. I haven't seen you there. Did you recently graduate?"

Shaking her head, "No, Edward. I don't attend school anymore."

"Oh." Is that normal for a human? "Why not?" What else would a human do?

She sighed, "It's complicated."

"I think I can keep up."

Another deep breath, "Ok. It is only fair to tell you more about me since I know so much about you. I think that alone ensures I can trust you."

He nodded – she didn't see.

"My father is Charlie Swan, of course. Police Chief." Turning a stone over in her hand, "I moved here two years ago, actually, after I graduated high school."

More questions – more intrigue. The list of unknowns mounted in his mind. A checklist to go down. Did her father help her out? How old was she? Highly inappropriate to ask these things.

He sensed dawn coming, not here yet. He would stay with her as long as he could.

"My mother died just after I graduated. Which is sad but as we know…death is just a part of life. You enjoy life while it's here and mourn it when it's gone…if it's been lived amicably."

Smiling, she looked up to meet his eyes. He was trying to pry into her thoughts – feeling in the dark without the inner dialogue.

Isabella continued, "Unlike you, I could only tolerate high school _one time_." That precious, quiet laughed sounded from her lips. "Unlike your family, I never had brothers and sisters, birth, step or foster. I spent most of my life caring for myself as my mother proved more…adolescent…than me." Tossing the stone lightly into the air and catching it repeatedly.

With the continued reference to her knowledge of his kind and his family Edward had a slow sense of unease work its way into his thoughts. Yes, slowly he began to worry about the implications of her knowledge.

Continuing, "I'm sure you're wondering about what I did. I know you know why I did it, what he was. I also know you won't judge me for it."

Meeting his gaze again with a smirking glint in her eyes which shifted into a smile, "My father admires and respects your father, Doctor Cullen. Deeply, personally. Ironic, isn't it? That if my father knew what I know his view of _you_ would be…less than palatable?" Rubbing the stone between her hands, "If he knew about _me_ his view of me would also be less than palatable."

Concern of her knowledge regarding him and his family continued to grow. The intensity was thick, drowning out all other worries. He was going to have to ask her about her deeper knowledge and apparent 'extra sense.'

"My father's a good man, naiive a bit, overprotective to a blinding fault. Yet busy with his work. For example, he still doesn't know that I don't sleep…at night." Smiling at the stone in her hand, "I do sleep, unlike you. I just don't sleep at night. It works out well that he's gone during the day, then."

Catching a moment of silence he finally worked up the courage to approach the subject that had been eating at him. "Isabella…may I ask you a question?"

Nodded her consent.

"How do you know so much…about us. My family, what we are, school? All of this?"

A tense smile spread across her lips, she eyed him intently.

"Come now, Edward. It wouldn't be…prudent…for me to do so."

Still staring intently into her eyes. Frowning, no, that's not what he wanted to hear. Now he had to know. It was beginning to unnerve him. What else did she know? Who else knew what she knew. Were they the only other vampires she knew?

"I'll put you at ease," She said while breaking away from his gaze, still smiling. "Some of your kind have…powers…do they not? That help you, aid you in…your life?"

"Yes, some of us do."

"As do I."

Now that she had said it, it made sense. Just – what type of power did she have? He thought back through everything that he had seen and what had transpired. All he could place was that she could see the future like Alice. Was Alice in danger? Was Isabella in danger? Alice being at risk for her gift was one thing but Isabella being in danger, her human life, was more dire. She had no one to protect her if things went - wrong. What if someone other than him found out? Who else already knew? What if her human activities were discovered, what then?

Turning to face him, capturing his eyes with hers, again. A bead of dew falling from her lashes, "Your family lives with…rules…and restrictions for safety. All of your life centers around keeping your secret with a semblance of living. So do I. I have my…gift…that I must keep to myself. You have your reasons. Surely you understand."

Yes – he understood the danger all too well.

"The sun will rise, soon, Edward. You have to go and so do I."

He stood and offered her his hand in assistance, she shook her head to decline and only dropped the stone into his open palm. He clutched it firmly, puzzled but pleased to have something of hers.

"I will be here again tomorrow night. Have a bleak day, Edward, at school." Her eyes glinted with her humored smile. With that she turned to leave.

A wave of panic swept over him, he didn't want her to go. So many questions. Again, he cursed the sunlight, "Isabella, wait."

She kept walking, only looking over her shoulder as she answered, walking without falter. "I know the way. You need to go home, Edward, and tell your mother, Esme, that I said hello."

"Yes, of course."

He watched until he couldn't see her anymore, how she made her way steadfast and sure around the roots and trunks. Then listened to her crunching footfalls on the earth until he couldn't hear her anymore.

As she slowly made her way into the dawn he was suddenly struck with the fact that he had just assisted a human being in committing the act of murder.

Above all; had Alice seen it? If she had, why hadn't she said anything to warn him?

Then again – did he want her to?

He replayed the events of the night in his mind – over and over. Her eyes, her hands culling out the soil, her voice, the stone given, the knife, the man falling and succumbing to his death, her smile, dew on her lashes.

Tomorrow.

Quickly, he made his way back to his home. He needed to make his way back to his family, to Carlisle - he would know what to do.

* * *

**Author's Note 3/27/2013: Edited for grammar, punctuation, continuity and syntax errors.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A Wolf Amidst the Sheep - Chapter 3**

He had to think. He had to figure this out. So many questions and no answers. Never had anything been so complicated before. Not Maria and her occasional antics. Nor dealings with nomads and their differences. Not even the turmoil that bubbled in their own home.

Fear – fear radiated through him, fear for her. What if someone found out? What if that male was reported missing? Was she careful enough in her daytime activities? What led up to her taking him out to the woods at night? Would she be discovered? Did anyone else know?

These were things that he simply could not ask. Not now. So he said nothing. Since he had no answers and only the troubled churning of his mind, he ignored the prying eyes of the family as they sat around engaging in various past-times and made his way to his room.

Tonight – he would get answers tonight.

In the time he had until school began he sat in his bedroom seeing through the marred surface of his glass walls to the woods beyond. Counting ants as time passed. _One-thousand-twenty-nine, one-thousand-thirty._ Him watching her, his scandalous lusts, her murder. All these things. His lust, her hands, the stone.

Pulling the stone from his pocket he held it in the light, turning it about. Watching as the light fractured from each facet. Granite. Such a boring, small rock that now held so much meaning. She had touched. It was her gift to him. So much significance for such a tiny little thing. It held her scent as well. Without his fascination with her silent mind and calling body the venom now flowed freely. Burning and singeing with the worst of pains as it gushed down his throat. _Her throat – tense and drawn tight, drinking cool water._ Edward wanted so badly to taste that water, on her lips.

~x~X~x~

School. This was the bane, now. It was already purgatory, that was a well-established fact.

It's torture was now amplified. Now it was the circles of hell itself. He expected, any moment, to look up and see the vile burgundy sneer of Rubicante as he forked him back under the boiling pitch. _Dante's Inferno_ might still ring true.

Midday, however, he began to realize that this was his first opportunity to possibly gleam knowledge from the minds of those around him. Any signs that Isabella was in danger, suspected, seen? The slightest shred of information about her, her life. Who were her friends, what did she do?

Amber, Dyson, Mai, John, Sinclair. No one thought anything of the Swan girl. Every mind he passed, every teacher that was near. Everyone – mind after mind. Nothing.

Drifting mindlessly through two class periods and lunch in the cafeteria with his siblings - he suffered. Thought after thought, mind after mind. Nothing, nothing. His agitation grew. If Jasper was here he could ease the tension. If Alice were here she could throw him some psychic scraps.

They weren't. He was the only one with any such powers here at the table. Rosalie and Emmett were of no help. Rosalie was, however, quite incensed with Edward's now well distracted mind. He apparently had been ignoring her – and he continued to do so.

The afternoon wore on, painfully slow. Still – nothing.

No thoughts of Isabella or the slain male.

With a resounding sigh he began to tune out. Reliving his moments with Isabella while fisting the stone in his hand. The scent filled his mind, again, his body tensed. He breathed deep and steady, gaining control. Easing himself downward. 'You're not the only one feeling this…_tension_…Edward,' She said to him. Her voice in his mind was like a soothing balm.

He thought back to how he was mesmerized by the sway of her hips that first night. It felt like ages ago - was it only just two weeks? Disgust now filled him thinking of how he wanted to just take, drink, feed, have - during their adverted hunt.

The day after the adverted hunt he went out to find her, wanting to do exactly that. He would have traced her scintillating aroma as far as he needed to go. Once at the edge of the woods, however, the trail ran cold. Coming back to his home he felt shame. He felt trapped, though. Not able to leave the end of her trail, not wanting to leave her scent behind, he wallowed in his self-disgust. Until he heard her footsteps.

She was wearing a long, dark purple coat with black buttons. Her legs were bare, boots that laced and buckled. Memories of his childhood came; his mother's riding boots with the stout heel and row of hook and eye down the front, narrow toed. Isabella, like his mother, wore classic black, a striking contrast against the creamy tan of her calves.

It was this one precious memory that he never knew he had which grounded him and stayed his urge.

Thinking back to that very first night - he wanted to know what was under her coat. The memory began to drive him mad.

~x~X~x~

Afternoon finally came. With his family in the home he went through the motions of spending time together. He was only physically there. Esme engaged him several times in conversation but to no avail. Several times he recalled Isabella's request to tell her hello but Edward was not ready, yet, to discuss anything regarding her. Too many questions that needed answering.

He wanted to keep her as his own torturous secret.

Home never felt so cold, before.

Nightfall came. He left – his usual evening run. He left with swift speed, hopeful and yet so nervous over his second night with Isabella. Alone. In the woods. At night.

He sat at the base of the rock outcropping that they spent the previous night resting against. Deep breaths, taking in the rich earthy aroma of decay and greenery. Her fading scent thrilled through his lungs and coaxed his taste buds. With meditative intensity he pushed his senses as far out as they would go. He heard nothing – only the faint sound of life in the forest. Birds, insects, and other small rodents and reptilians. Pine and Cedar wafting on the breeze. The foliage rustling. Nothing more.

Hours passed. The night grew thicker, the sounds changed, the air grew heavier with fog and threatening rain. Tracing her footprints in the tamped earth with his fingers - her stocky heel and sculpted toe. Over and over. Imagining her muscles contract and extend with each step as she walked. Her arms with their natural swing. Him having to resist the urge to touch her – hold her hand, place his hand gently at the curve of her back…

"Lost in thought, are we?"

Her voice came from nowhere, startled him. He bit back a growl. "Apologies, Isabella. You did…frighten…me."

A delicate laugh, "My prowess knows no bounds, it seems. Come now, Edward," She scolded, "Don't be rash. Stay focused." With a smile, "That's the only way _anything_ will work between the two of us."

She was wearing that purple coat again and those same black boots. Memories of his mother with her lacing hook fastening her boots before the evening ride came to him. Staving off his lust for blood, pinning it down. Elizabeth wouldn't want that. Elizabeth had high hopes. He wouldn't let his mother down.

Was that the key to containing the monster? This gave him a bit of hope.

They sat in silence for some time. Edward thought back through all his concerns, questions, passions and desires. Nothing seemed right. Again, he watched her features in the night, how the moonlight glinted off the pout of her lips and the rise of her cheekbones. He could sculpt her in marble.

His eyes traveled over the billowing folds of her coat, he frowned at the concealing swaths. They kept her hidden. Except for her legs – sitting, the hem of her coat had risen. Her legs were extended out, heels gouging out the earth, knees up and touching. An alluring trinity - calf, thigh and mother earth. His hands now ached to reach out and touch the flesh of her thigh. He imagined it would feel warm under his cool touch. The smooth of her calf; he watched as the blood pulsed ever so slightly under the skin.

If he did reach for her, what would she do? Would she scream in horror at his frigidity? Would she moan with pleasure? Would her heart race with anticipation? Fixated on her exposed, creamy skin he imagined kneeling at her feet, his eyes fixed on hers. Cradling her heel in his lap and slowly untying the cord. Row by row, undoing it, loosening the leather binding. Then slipping his hand just under her knee as he gently slipped her boot off. A slow, steady pull…

"Edward," Again she chided quietly, just a firm whisper of his name. Her breath ghosted over the skin of his neck. The sensation was intense, unnerving.

Slowly he brought is eyes up to hers with only a little shame for his lustful gaze. His lustful gaze which was now turned to her lips, her neck, her jaw, her flushed cheeks. He wanted to ask, he wanted to touch. He needed to. As he steeled himself to dare ask for a kiss – just one innocent, sweet kiss on those full lips - she interrupted his gaze again.

"Stop, now, please."

He drew himself back, not even realizing he was only inches from those sultry lips. Now he did feel shameful. He looked in her eyes and then away.

"How was your bleak day?" She asked – again, casual and comfortable.

Swallowing down the dulled sting of venom, "It was…frustrating," Looking at her, again, "How was yours?" _Did you find a new mark? Did you take down another? Did you think of me as much as I have thought of you? Do you want me as I want you? _

She smiled brilliantly. "I had a bleak day as well. Only, I didn't go to school and spend my time pretending I'm something I'm not. I believe that means your bleak day was rather more dreary than mine. I sympathize."

That made him laugh as he remembered his fear that Rubicante was going to be putting him under. Yes, that much was quite true.

"How is Esme?"

A wave of panic swept over him – he hadn't told Esme hello. The very concept of it seemed nearly impossible without having to delve into the entirety of strange events that have unfolded. He was too wrapped up in things to take the time to talk to her about anything. Suddenly, he felt guilty for ignoring his mother. He would have to apologize.

She frowned, "You didn't tell her hello, did you?"

_No_ - he thought – _I wanted to keep you to myself for a while longer. _He thought back through the shame he felt over all his many transgressions. Yes, he hadn't acted on them but again there was the matter of her little – hobby – that he hadn't figured out how to deal with, yet. So, yes, she must be kept a secret for a while.

To keep her safe.

Laughing at him, the vibration of her humor danced through the air. "When you get around to swallowing your pride and self-loathing then can you please tell her I said hello? I gather that's what's in your way?"

Smiling at her – not sure whether he should be humored or hurt.

"Yes, I will tell her…when I can." He eyed her boots again but kept his thoughts bound. Instead, he let his mind review his concerns and worries. Searching for anything that he could bring up now. If only to learn more about her.

"I need to ask you…something."

Isabella nodded - encouragement to continue.

"Foremost, Isabella. I see you as being an intelligent and capable woman. You are confident and…passionate. I know you are…capable…of protecting yourself in some situations. However, I can't help but be somewhat concerned for you. You really must consider the conse-"

"Consequences?" Beaming with a wide, toothy grin, a thrilled glint touching her eyes, "Every action has consequences. The seen and the unseen," Her voice tensed, "For instance. _I_ know the consequences of permitting someone like That Male to continue to live. Did you know he was a convicted child rapist? You do know he slaughtered Camilla Price when she caught him in the act after he was released from prison and threatened to go to the police."

Edward felt chastised, even embarrassed. He had even considered killing the male - just to keep Isabella safe. She was logical in her defense. Who was Edward to truly judge her? Hadn't he done the same, before? Yes, he played God many times.

"_I_ was his consequence. Don't entertain the idea of preaching to me about morals when you tenaciously cling to your own, Edward Cullen." Her words were harsh but her tone was smooth, calming, attentive, "You are a telepath, are you not?"

Edward gasped, already feeling burned by her words, the shock of her knowledge salted the wound. The fact that she knew shouldn't come as a shock – but it did. Hearing it uttered out loud was a surprise. Again, he cursed her silent mind. If only he could understand…

"Hide. That's what they do. They seep out into the sparsely populated pockets throughout the world and hide, blending in with the locals, nesting, hoping they're never found. Waiting to strike. Is this not true?"

"Yes," It was true – more than anything, he knew people's minds when he made the effort to listen. He spent a considerable amount of time getting inside the minds of vile killers.

"I was granted a gift – and I use it to draw them out of hiding like poisoned blood from a gaping, festering, wound."

Her voice never raised, she maintained her passive tone but yet her words were so painful for him to hear. Her judgement. Words formed by a whip.

"What have you done with yours, Edward Cullen?" Striking a finger in his direction, an accusative digit. "Cannot even find it in you to take your God-given gift and seek out those who are guilty and purge them even via legal means? Slaughtering them to slake your thirst was so vile? Yet not one moment of your eternal damnation have you turned your ability to true good."

Incensed with rage - he made to defend himself, his beliefs, his values, "Isa-"

"Noble though it is…to always keep watch on your family. Admit it, though, you spite your gift and though it's like a sixth sense to you, most of your time is dedicated towards a selfish illusion of quiet and peace. Escape. Would you gut it from your being like a cancerous growth?"

Nodding, now, firm with her conviction of him, "You are both handsome and lush…but a hypocritical fool rivaling that of Judas himself. You have the power to protect and defend those whom you swear to respect. Do not preach to me about consequences. You have yet to earn the right."

Was he a hypocrite? Were her words all truth? Could it be possible that his gifts were considered gifts from God and not to be squandered? His thoughts were fractured, he was confused and lost.

Her voice faded to a whisper, "Carlisle figured it out so long ago and yet here I sit having to explain it to you." She shook her head, looking up to meet his eyes, "You are incredibly stubborn."

They sat in silence. Only more questions came to mind laden with the shame of her observations and pointed views. Not once had he considered using his gifts for any type of perceivable – good – for anyone other than himself and those around him. In fact, much to the opposite. He used it to persuade and impress. To guide and sidesteps.

The question then remained; why did Isabella care and why was she seeking him out?

* * *

**Author's Note: Edited 3/27/2013 for errors**


	4. Chapter 4

**A Wolf Amidst the Sheep – Chapter 4**

They sat in silence for a considerable amount of time. Stone still, he listened to the strong and steady rhythm of her heart. Deep inhales drew her scent into his lungs. With each passing day he had become more accustomed to the painful marring of his throat. Mystery and his Mother kept her safe.

He turned her words around in his mind. Was he a hypocrite? He refused to play God yet he manipulated people on occasion to achieve his own personal goals. Was this bad? If so, how bad? Just as bad? Was it even sinful? This is where his religious views fell short – there was nothing in the scriptures about telepaths and their limitations. He had to make up his own guidelines. There was also nothing about vampires so they, too, had to make up their own guidelines in that regard.

The tension in the air was all coming from him, he had offended her. He argued with himself that he was only concerned for her well-being It still seemed reasonable to him. It still felt very much like that was his place. Somehow in this short time he had begun to feel responsible for her safety and well-being.

"I'm sorry, Isabella. I know wha-"

"Do not finish that sentence. I understand your cause for concern, don't feel you need to take the time to defend yourself. You simply don't know me, yet. Once you do know me I will make much more sense. I promise." Turning to him with a thoughtful expression, "Maybe I was too harsh, Edward. We only just met. I suppose I forget that you are not very…familiar…with me."

"I feel lost with you, Isabella. I have questions that I don't even believe are appropriate to ask. It's…stressful. I feel I…need to keep you a secret."

She laughed while flicking a twig into her hand. "Hole me away forever? Never tell anyone about me? I'm not a psychopath or a different species purely for what I do. Are you a psychopath?" She smiled, "I might have some opinions about your…choices…in life. Even though it's not my place to judge. I am no simpleton, however, and I do not take easy offense when I know I have intentionally stirred curiosity. Perhaps I _need you_ to ask questions so I can _then_ answer them."

All Edward latched onto, however, was how she stressed the 'need you' – though he knew she didn't mean it in any other way. A part of him hoped – a very large part.

"I don't know where to start." He sighed, enjoying the breeze of crisp, cold night.

"Maybe I can answer the basics that you've no doubt wondered about. I'm 18. I attended private school. Graduated when I was 15. I live with my father. I haven't chosen a new mark, yet…" Turning towards him, again, meeting his eyes, "How's that so far? Helpful?"

There were things about her – her laugh, her smile, the glimmer in her eyes - all these things he found so appealing. Again, he thought about the warmth of her lips pressed to his. He leaned towards her.

"Edward! You _must_ stop that." Her voice was harsh, causing him to draw back from her.

Betrayed by his traitorous body. Somewhere along the way his physical began to override the psychological. Briefly he thought back to his family and how alienated they felt sometimes by him being able to read their thoughts. A pleasant smile crept over his face in relief that this wasn't the case, here. He didn't think he could live with that. Especially not when he imagined himself naked with her. If anyone else was able to read his mind this entire exchange wouldn't be possible. Him being the mind-reader and no one else was a comforting fact. He would give anything, though, to have one glimpse of her mind.

Fascination gripped him as he watched a small smile touch her lips which she then hid shyly by turning away. What was she thinking?

"Private? What school did you attend?"

"Bourgade Catholic High School." Again – the glint in her eye.

"Why did your parents choose to send you there?"

"They both detested the idea, in fact. I chose to go. It was suitable for me, at the time." Raising her brow in suggestion, "It was necessary, though not for religious purposes."

Yes, he could only imagine her reason. Unbidden, he thought to her transgressions and how else she might have carried it out.

"Why?" Edward's voice was thick with emotions. Concern, worry, intrigue, fear, lust, compassion, understanding. It was too much. A foreign blend, it assaulted his senses and shook his reality.

"Is it really that difficult for you?"

"What is?"

Giving him a look of disbelief, "What I've done. How it makes you feel. I have a hard time imagining you don't understand. I know you do."

He said nothing in response.

"Is it really that difficult for you to understand?"

No, it wasn't. He did understand, all too well. Only, he saw things differently now. In his changed view he couldn't condone the harming of a being in revenge no matter what they've done.

He simply said, "No." It wasn't difficult to understand her reasons, he just didn't hold the view as he did before.

Letting his mind wander, again, in their silence. He tried to unravel everything. Isabella had taken on a certain appearance, personality and sensation. Then, to watch her take a life. It was shocking and horrifying. He remembered the intense sensuality that came from it all; the moment when he realized what she had done he was taken over by so many different deviant thoughts and desires. He eventually disgusted himself - his overall arousal and fantasy was more shocking to him than the act she committed itself.

"Me committing the act is not what disturbed you, though."

He was taken aback by such a simple statement which was more true than she knew.

Isabella looked up to the forest canopy, again, watching as the limbs and branches swayed from the wind. The trunks and underbrush of the forest protecting them from the biting force of it. The air smelled of impending rain. Edward intently watched the slight pulse around her eyelids, taking in her lashes and irises. His inhibitions, his desire. If she was truly in his head she would reject him.

The answer was another simple, "No." He couldn't bring himself to say 'yes' – too much shame for what he was.

A glaring, incredulous look was delivered in her eyes and on her lips, "You're a terrible liar."

It almost made him laugh, except that somehow – in some way – he knew that she was aware he was lying. An uneasy feeling crept over him as he realized he could likely never hide anything from her. One way or the other, she'd draw out his thoughts and truths like blood from a vein.

Quickly, she stood, "I will see you tomorrow, Edward. Thank you for another lovely evening."

Her retreating form was an unwelcomed sight. He wanted her to stay. Couldn't she stay, just for a while longer? So many questions and he hardly had any answers. Why was she leaving? How could she leave so easily.

"Wait…Isabella." For a moment he feared she would keep walking like before.

He sighed with relief as she stopped and turned to face him. Her eyes and expression so smooth and even – it was calming.

"May I walk with you?"

"No, Edward, I don't think that would be a good idea."

"Why not?"

Irritation flashed in her expression, "Edward, do you want to see me tomorrow?"

"Yes, of course."

"Then you cannot come with me."

"Why not?" He was sulking, now. He _needed_ to spend time with her and somehow he felt he had ruined another opportunity.

Taking a few steps towards him, purple fluttering in the light breeze. "Are you always this petulant?"

"Are you always this coy?" He asked.

"I'm not shy, Edward. I know you want to spend time with me but not right now."

For the first time in all of his years he felt – rejected. Rejected by the only human he ever wanted to be with. Irony at it's finest moment. "When? Can you at least tell me why not?"

"Edward. I am not a good friend for you."

Shooting her a mystified look – that was how he felt about himself towards her. How could she possibly pose any sort of unsteady threat for him. It didn't add up, it made no sense.

Her look of irritation with him deepened and she shifted on her feet. The calm, coolness was waning. "I'm serious, Edward."

"Well your behavior says otherwise when you're with me."

"Does it? As I recall, you were here when I first came. Not the other way around."

He wanted to argue but it was the truth. "I apologize." Still feeling rejected but giving into the belief that if he didn't offend her too much then some day she _would_ give in. Such a strange concept, he found himself wanting her to want him, suddenly. Just days ago he was convinced that wasn't entirely impossible. His fear that she would only see him for the monster he was quickly dissipated. The fact that she was safe, now, was becoming proof in itself that he wasn't always a threat to her person-hood. He began to truly entertain the possibilities that they, physically, were indeed possible.

Finally, a smile touched her lips.

"Accepted. I apologize, as well. Do what you need to do so you can finally tell Esme I said hello. Perhaps you need to take a vacation of some sort? Get your thoughts in order?"

"Perhaps." He smiled and it wasn't returned – she was being serious.

"Tomorrow, Edward. I have a feeling it will be a far less dreary day for you."

"Is that so?"

Smiling, she turned to leave. Edward watched and then listened until every evidence of her had faded.

He hoped she was right – that his tomorrow would be less dreary

~x~X~x~

Isabella had left many hours ago. All was silent save for the slight sounds of nature. Before, the woods were purely seen as a hunting ground. Beauty was only found where the sun could touch when the clouds parted. Things were different, now, the closed in woods were lush with memories of Isabella and how her vivid pale skin and brightly colored coat contrasted beautifully with the moss. Peaches, cream and blueberries.

He sat alone listening to the rain falling heavily through the canopy overhead and how it tumbled down to light on the ground. He felt like a fool. An imbecile. Her logic was fairly reasonable yet lacked the values that he held. On the same account, it pained him to consider that she might be right; was he squandering the gift he was given? Was it even a gift? Most of his days Edward felt it was a curse.

~x~X~x~

Hours left until his day began. Again, he sat in his room reviewing everything that was said. Struggling with his sense of rejection, unsatisfied curiosity and growing bitterness. Overall, he was beginning to wonder why he even cared. Because he did – apparently quite a bit. He cared what she thought of him and how she felt about him. Why?

Was it because she had the mind of a killer? The idea in itself was repulsive. What kind of an animal loves the darkest and most depraved elements of someone such as him? The fantasies of her bathed in crimson ribbons aroused him and he felt shamed for his villainous thoughts. He assuaged his guilt when he realized that the care and concern he felt for her was there long before the fourteenth night. Long before sexuality entered into the picture.

He was brought out of the confines of his thoughts when his phone rang – Alice.

Skipping past any sort of a greeting, "You aren't really going to paint her with blood, are you?"

"No, Alice, I'm not. It was just a fleeting thought."

She snorted, "Yeah, right…So explain."

"Explain what?"

"Are you going to tell me why you didn't stop the murder or not? My visions don't come with a soundtrack, you know?"

"I didn't know. I can't hear her mind. I didn't know what she was thinking."

"Carlisle's not going to be happy about that."

"Yes, I know. I don't know what to tell them about all of this…about her. It makes little sense."

"Name, Edward. Does she have a name?"

"Yes, Isabella Swan."

"Ah, of course. She does look so much like Chief Swan, I should have seen the resemblance but while she was busy killing someone I didn't take the time to notice. She's feisty, too, I wonder if he taught her that little trick."

That last comment made Edward chortle. Yes – feisty might be the perfect description for Isabella. A Feisty Enigma.

"Alice. Other than what you saw things are…strange. She's different. She's illusive about it but said she had some sort of gift or ability. Also, she knew I was there…as if she sensed me being there watching her. On top of that, she knows about us, our family…though I'm not sure how much she knows, she's cryptic. I just don't know what to do."

"I don't know either, you're there with her. I'm not. I can't advise you on this. You need to talk to Carlisle about her."

He thought through how to approach him – at work? A phone call? In his study?

"No, Edward. I already told Carlisle that you had something you needed to talk to all of them about. He's going to call a family meeting this evening. I think it would be best if you did it with the family. I'd offer to come home but I don't think I need to be there. I need to go."

"Thanks, Alice. It's good to know I can always count on you. If you see anything else let me know, ok. I'm still not sure how I feel about her…_interests._"

"Oh and Edward, when I meet her I'm taking her shopping. Her choice of shoes is _horrid_. The coat is quite lovely. Does she wear anything underneath?"

With that – a flood of images regarding what was underneath that purple wool knee length coat assaulted him. How had she managed to execute someone without making a mess of it?

~x~X~x~

For the second time Edward spent his time in school raking through the thoughts of students and faculty. Still, no one thought of Isabella. He watched as Angela and Ben stole kisses next to her locker. The blush on Angela's cheeks, the haze in Ben's eyes. That is how two people who had found each other were together. Stolen moments.

Edward pained as he thought of how much he wanted that with Isabella. Was it so wrong to want a human? So many things, her knowledge, her sway over him, her attraction. She was an exceptional human. He added her high intelligence to the list of her many charms. Only his penchant for morality nipped as his conscience.

As he was leaving the school yard Isabella's decadent scent assaulted him. He looked around, panicked and lustful. Swallowing mouthfuls of venom and trying to control the overpowering lust for her.

Where was she? Why was she here?

Like a ghosting form drifting across the landscape he followed her scent, fixating on thoughts of his mother and his sense of morality to keep him grounded. It would hardly seem sensible to give into the inner beast while warring with what he partially believed was Isabella's skewed views on the matter.

Behind the school. Her scent left a delectable path into the woods. Panic filled him, she was not alone. What was she doing? Another? He had to stop, he had to intervene.

Running, now – trailing her scent. Seeking out the thoughts of the other. How far had she gone? There was nothing, yet. No thoughts. No heartbeat. No breathing. What if she led the other out here and she was injured, or worse? Edward felt a pain rip through him at the thought. That couldn't happen – he prayed that not to be the case.

The wind ripped through his hair, the bitter cold wafted with her scent and scant smells of the forest. He had been so focused on Isabella he had not realized when it was just her scent alone.

Pressing on, racing up and over the mountainside. How long had she been walking out this way? He wanted to call out to her – but couldn't form the words.

A moan of relief as he heard the steady rhythm of her heart and soothing sound of her breathing. Just over the next hillside.

His body sang with relief, severe and sharp like a pleasant pain. Rounding the trunks of several large trees he spotted her sitting on a felled log. Facing away from him, he spited that he couldn't see her eyes first thing. Isabella's purple coat contrasting sharply with the greens and browns of nature as she toed the soil. Edward slowly made his way, taking in her form, even clad in her thick wool coat she was still exquisitely breathtaking. Her chestnut and mahogany hair fell in curved waves down her back. The fabric was taut across her flesh, clinging to the shape of her waist and hips.

"There you are." Turning just enough to smile at him, a lovely glint of happiness in her one seen eye, lips twitching with a restrained smile. "Don't worry, Edward, I'm fine."

He was overcome with happiness and relief. The risk she had taken coming without him to dispense of another person was put aside. She made him think of Christmas Morning and Flowers in His Meadow during springtime. He would have to take her there some day.

"Fine Art. Isabella, you're an exquisite masterpiece."

Isabella's loud laughter rang out, the sound was like an intoxicating elixir. _Inebriated with Isabella_ - Edward chuckled at the thought.

She shifted on the log, patting the spot to her left. They sat together, side by side. Him, statue still while he took in all her features, her scent, her natural rhythms.

His curiosity bit at him, "I know you can't tell me certain things, but how do you know I'm near you?"

Out of the corner of her eye she slid him a dubious look, "Maybe someday."

"I'm not handling the mystery of you very well. It's embarrassing to admit but it's a struggle."

Looking up towards the overhead branches and lichen, "I know, Edward."

They sat in silence for a few moments.

"What are you thinking, Isabella? Reading-minds is part of my nature and it's frustrating that I cannot read yours. Please tell me something."

Wafting her hands through the air, "The sky is blue and grass is green."

"Isabella, please," He pleaded. It was eating at him, a gnawing pain in his mind and dead heart. He wanted so much to touch her, like Angela and Ben – a modest kiss, an arm around her waist, her hand in his. Why did a vile piece of filth have the pleasure of her touch and not him? It was – unfair. If he was denied that then the least he could do was have more of her mind.

"Please…Isabella. Anything."

A bird called out from high up in a nearby tree. A the flurry of tiny clawed feet as a mole made its way through the shrubbery. He wanted answers but had none.

"I can't read your mind, you have to tell me what you're thinking."

Isabella sighed, shifted on the log – slipping her hands into her front pockets.

"I came out here knowing you'd follow me. I have been out here since just after school started. I brought…someone…and took care of him much earlier. Of course you knew that part."

Reality of their situation and how exactly he came to be with her sitting on the log rushed back to him. How he wanted to prevent it from happening, and how dreadfully wrong it could have gone for her. She was so frail and – human. "What did he do? Was he…from around here?"

"Hardly worth discussing; another child molester taken care of and…no…he's not from around here. Don't worry. I'm not about to wipe out the local male population," Laughing long and deep, "Unless they've earned it."

The coldness in her words unsettled him. Stoking his frustration. He was going to ask questions, have her look him in the eye. No human had ever been able to continually ward off his questioning when he was in control of the situation. He needed to get answers and figure out a way to _change_ Isabella, somehow. So many dangers came from her decisions. So many things could go wrong that he could not protect her from.

He quickly stood to face her. She turned her face away – refusing to meet his eyes. "What are you doing?" For the first time she sounded timid.

"I know you think what you're doing is right…I do, I underst-"

"Don't preach to m-"

"No, I've listened to you. You need to listen to me…I know how you're feeling about what you do." He knelt down in front of her, wanting to reach out and take her hand in his or turn her face to meet his but restrained himself. "I know you feel it's right and just. I didn't put myself at risk, however, to accomplish what I did. It's so dangerous for you. What if someone sees you? What if you're discovered, somehow? What if you're inju-"

"You need to go, Edward, your family will be waiting for you."

Anger raged through him, "You need to rethink things. You can trust me, I won't deliver you to the law but some in my family might not be so understanding." His fists clenched with restraint, his body rigid.

"Edward, please don't." Her eyes still adverted. "You need to go and talk with your family. I _cannot_ be a secret and I _will not_ upset Esme by keeping you away. Now go."

He watched her carefully - her rigid posture, her refusal to even look at him. She didn't respond well to be confronted the way she had done him. He considered her words and began to feel that if he left her at that moment she might not come back. Panic swept over him at the thought that he had likely pushed her away. He couldn't let things go on this sour exchange of words.

"I won't go until you look at me and tell me you will at least _wait_ for me…the next time. Your safety is everything to me."

Gasping at his words, she swallowed and glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

He saw pain. A brief flash of it and then her cool, serene mask returned. She was hiding something. He needed to see her eyes – he needed to try to read her expression and just understand her.

Reaching out one hand – tentatively at first. She didn't shrink back. Instead, she clenched her eyes closed as his fingers touched the heat of her chin. His flesh hummed, her skin was so supple, so soft. He let his fingers linger there, appreciating the texture of her flesh on his. He slowly turned her face to his – and hissed.

Anger, frustration, rage, pain swept over him. He was too late – it had already happened. She was hurt. Her cheek was swollen and turning vivid colors of purple and blue.

"What happened?" He growled out, trying to compel her to talk with the force of his words.

Saying nothing - she forcefully twisted her chin away from his touch.

He struggled to control his tone, "What happened, Isabella?" Yet really what he wanted to say was how foolish she had been. No sense of self preservation. She was frail and human and now she was hurt. Bitterness shook him as he realized he couldn't always protect her. The danger of her choices and the danger of her being human. The reality. Up until this moment all his time spent with her felt like it wasn't real.

"He's dead now so it's no longer a concern."

Protect her.

All his mind was focused on that one thing. Keeping her safe. He wanted to take her with him, put her away. Anything to keep her from destroying herself with her skewed view of Godly Justice. If they left now they could meet the family together. They all could protect her. They would figure it out.

"Quit brooding, I'm leaving the way I came."

As she stood to leave him, again, he had to clench his fists to suppress the urge to reach, touch, taste. He wanted nothing more than to break down her defenses. He would – yes – he swore to himself that he would.

He watched her retreat and was overcome by a sense of unevenness. He had to make her see that there were other avenues to pursue. In a few quick steps he was falling in sync with her pace. If he asked permission she wouldn't grant it, he followed silently instead.

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**A/N: I don't always remember to write in a note to all my readers like so many other authors do - I should try harder. The list of followers and lovers is growing - which is awesome.**

**Things get more dicey as the private little two-some between Edward and Bella is burst and the rest of the family becomes aware and involved. Someone PM'd me with theories as to what on earth is going on with Bella - which was very interesting to read. There is enough evidence written into the story so far to actually figure out what her 'ability' is - if Edward's paying attention maybe he can figure it out. His guess - is way wrong. Right now - he's too twisted up over his lust for her body and concern with her safety to be aware of other more serious issues. Classic Edward. Remember - this Bella is Dark and there isn't much she isn't willing to do to get what she wants . . . . so; What does she really want?**

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**Author's Note 3/27/2013: Edited for errors . . . Edited out a few repetitive thoughts in this chapter regarding her humanity. She is human, not a hybrid or anything else - he questioned it briefly days ago and it wasn't necessary to go through the same questions, again. **


	5. Chapter 5

**A Wolf Amidst the Sheep: Chapter 5**

**Preface Note: This chapter begins exactly where the last one left off - they're walking together right after her injury was revealed.**

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If he was human and knew of her he would likely fear her – her capabilities – her lack of values. Yet another contrast between him and the average human male – or exceptional human male, for that matter. In this situation, being immortal put him out of harm's reach.

Being damned; he also felt that he was one of the few who could possibly know of Isabella's activities and accept it. Maybe that was what she wanted. Maybe she needed someone without being feared or judged. That is what he wanted, after all – perhaps they shared this.

He did feel fear, though. He was afraid of _not_ being with her in the way he had fantasized so many times. Desperately needing that fantasy to become their reality. For the first time a human knew what he was - and wasn't afraid. It was like a gift – a fragile, rare, delicate gift that at any moment could just disappear if he wasn't mindful.

The ephemeral nature of what they had together was frightening. He wanted it to be more solid, reliable and tangible. He wanted more. He wanted witnesses. That would make it real. If he was human he would easily believe it was all a dream. After all, he was mythological.

So - What does she know?

He played this question over and over in his mind, trying to pin it down and make sense of it. How much does she know? The only way is to ask. The worst he would get is evasiveness – which he was coming to expect as a given constant. Truthful, spot on answers would be more out of character for her at this point.

"You were right. My day was definitely less dreary, today."

Isabella laughed lightly as she watched the ground – steps never faltering.

"Did you…_see_…that it wouldn't be?"

"I didn't intend for it to be," She met his eyes, studying him, before quirking an eyebrow, "This isn't as secretive as you're imagining."

"What isn't?"

"You and I."

She stopped.

They stopped.

Edward noted the fading scent of her latest victim while watching in fascination as Isabella bent over to toe another small stone from the ground. He could smell the freshness of upturned earth and sweat.

"Your sister. At least one person knows about me. That's good. Well, make that two."

They continued walking as she worked the rock in her hand. He listened intently to the sound of the rough stone as it rubbed and chafed against the smooth skin of her fingers. Life and earth. A strange music.

"Jasper, he knows what she's shared with him. Which doesn't paint me in a positive light but that can't be avoided right now. However much I want the two of them to think more highly of me that will just have to wait until they're back. Carlisle vaguely knows something is amiss and the other three are firmly in the dark."

That was more – but still didn't fill in any blanks. "You are psychic. Like Alice? In some way?"

"No, I'm not, actually. No clairvoyance. I cannot see the future. I only know certain people…very well."

Well – there went that one theory. The only one he had.

She gave an airy laugh through her nose, "Though that doesn't explain anything, does it?"

"No, it just creates more questions and confusion for me."

A heavy sigh was her only response.

They continued in silence. The air became more crisp with the smell of slowly cooling and damp bracken. The rain from the night having left everything saturated with frigid water. Her boots began to drag a little in the muddier ground.

"You're like a tracker, then?"

"No."

"An empath?" He was reaching out in desperation.

"No, Edward, I am not like Jasper." There was a hint of humor in her voice – it irritated him.

"Have you met my family before?"

"No, Edward. I have not officially met you or your family before."

"How do you- Never mind. I know, it's not prudent and you won't tell me." Quickly he worked through other ways of being able to break down her stubborn defenses to get her to say it. If he could only exert some type of influence like he was able to over so many other humans. Her silent mind was an – inconvenience - in the worst way.

She laughed – another unknown point of humor to him, it ate through him with a newfound tension. He was not handling her quiet mind very well.

"What, Isabella? At least let me in somehow, please."

"My silent mind drives you mad, doesn't it?" Her eyes glinted with humor, lips drawing up at the corners into a smile, cheeks tight with amusement. Even bruised and swollen her beauty was not lost to him, "It's ironic, I think. It makes every one of my actions and words a complete mystery yet I can't help but imagine how tragic things would have been when we met the first time if my silent mind didn't ebb my…mystery…to insatiable levels."

He did imagine – he knew all too well that her silent mind was the reason she was still here. That first night he would have taken her. If not at that moment – then later. Alice wouldn't have been able to stop it. If she wasn't such a conundrum.

Was she referring to their official first night when they spoke to each other, when she saw him for the first time? Or the first night in the forest when they came across her scent while they hunted? Another mystery with the inconvenience of having to communicate.

"What first time are you referring to, exactly?"

To his surprise, Isabella said nothing. Her pace quickened and she lifted her eyes to look ahead. Casting a glance at him occasionally.

_Tell me what you're thinking, please. _He chanted it like a mantra in his mind.

"I'm afraid if I tell you _that_ you might be upset with me."

"No. I won't." He couldn't deny that he was painfully intrigued. If he was human his heart would be racing. This felt like something – something revealing and serious. The unknown of it hung in the air.

"The first time was just over two years ago at SeaTac airport."

He should be sweating profusely, his hands should be clammy. Instead, all he sensed were his racing thoughts and tensed posture. A sudden dryness from a lack of flowing venom. The inhuman version of shock.

Her voice then carried a nervous tension, "Come now, Edward, thousands of people saw you that day. It was June 2nd, in fact, I was visiting my father just before my mother's marriage to my stepfather. We were discussing the likelihood of me moving to Forks. Rosalie accidentally bumped into someone, knocking him over."

Yes – he remembered all too well. The man slipped, fell, cut himself open. Everyone but Carlisle had to leave the area immediately while holding their breath to prevent a scene. Carlisle attended to the man's minor injury – this always helped the family stay in control.

The two stood still and silent as Edward replayed the scene, the entire time at the airport in his mind – again and again. Not once did he remember ever seeing Isabella.

"Were you following me?"

She hesitated, "Not quite."

"You knew _of_ us before then, didn't you?"

"Yes."

What would she have looked like two years ago? Shorter, slimmer, longer hair? Different clothing? He struggled to imagine.

"Where were you?"

Her gaze was calm and serene, her heart had not elevated once. It was as if recounting the events took little mental or emotional effort. Meanwhile – Edward felt like he was coming undone. They were seen by her and she knew what they were – who else, human, had noticed them?

"Where were you, Isabella?" Fear for his family and a threat of public discovery edged his frustration upward – outward, towards her. He kept forgetting that she was a potential threat. He didn't just _want_ to know her, he _had_ to know her.

"Isabella," His voice growing more intense, "How did you see us? I don't recall seeing you and I have a _vivid_ memory."

Again, he replayed the entire trip through the airport – stepping off the plane, up the walkway, out into the terminal, around the corner, down the hallway, to the baggage claim, the incident, leaving the facility, to the parking garage, waiting for Carlisle. Every store and restaurant passed, every patron seated, every custodian and child. No one looked like Isabella in his mind. No one. There would have been no escaping her scent, either.

Venom pooled, his nostrils flared. He was angry with her and he was angry with himself for becoming angry with her. Her stubborn refusal to let him in further was prodding him.

Isabella stepped back, yet her calm and collect demeanor did not change. Her rhythms stayed the same.

"I was in the security office. I saw you on the monitor."

His body relaxed – slightly. That explained everything, why he couldn't see her. She wasn't there, physically. He nodded with comprehension.

They started to walk again, only with more distance between them. Edward made the decision to veer towards her, close the gap, not wanting tension to divide them.

He was focused, trying to deduce just how she ended up in the security office at the monitor to begin with. Did her _hobby_ take her there for some reason? Then – with a fresh wave of frustration and panic – awareness hit him.

She made a mistake.

"Isabella, how would seeing me on a security monitor put you in danger?"

No response.

"You said _'when we met the first time'._" She had it right – it was making him angry.

"Did I?" Isabella's calm, collect reproach wavered. She sounded nervous.

That was enough confirmation for him. Isabella was always so careful of her words and in control of her tone and body language. It was an omission.

"Yes, you did."

She was silent, again.

"Isabella," Edward chided, he couldn't hide the harshness in his tone. Her evasiveness was taxing on his control and resolve. He needed answers.

They walked in more silence, Isabella said nothing.

Edward had enough – he took her hand in his, pulling her gently to a stop. He didn't want to be forceful with her or frighten her but he needed answers. This has gone on long enough. Her heart sped, he could hear it in the air and feel it in her palm as her heated flesh met his cooled skin. She was so soft and delicate it was hard for him to imagine that her hands had taken a life – two lives - possibly many lives.

"Edward, don't." She scolded but her voice was still shaky, she was still nervous.

He wasn't listening this time.

"Stop, Isabella, stop hiding."

"I'm not hiding, Edward, there are just some things-"

"You can't tell me. Yes, you've said that before. Or is it that you don't _want_ to tell me?"

He stepped in front of her. Bending forward just enough to level their eyes. Her breathing quickened as her eyes were locked to his, chin quivering. The increased blood flow rushed pink into her cheeks, deepening the natural red of her lips. The intoxicating scent of her blood thickened in the air.

She tried to pull away from him, stepping backwards. He held to her hand, not letting it go. Not wanting to end the contact.

He stepped with her.

Panic flashed in her eyes, she swallowed and adverted her eyes from him. Her delicate, small hand began to shake slightly in his.

"When was the first time we _met_, Isabella?"

She took another step, he stepped even closer to her. Sweat started to bead on her smooth skin. He could smell her fear but he felt he had no other way. She was going to come out with what she knew one way or another.

The contact of flesh on flesh was too enjoyable, he didn't want it to end. What he wanted was truth. Honesty. To trust her. To have answers. To further their contact. For her not to draw away but instead come closer to him.

Eyes still adverted, she stepped back again – he stepped forward. This time he pulled her clasped hand slowly behind him, closing the distance. Until the fabric of her coat met the fabric of his, rustling together. In the quiet the new noise was so loud and out of place. He carefully raised his other hand to her chin and turned her face to meet his. Inches away from his own.

"Isabella."

She closed her eyes.

Evasiveness was not one of her charms. It was quickly growing to be quite abhorrent to him. Torturous.

"Isabella, tell me what you're after."

Her eyes snapped open wide, her heart rate climbed higher. Her lips were so close he could feel the heat pouring off of her flesh almost as if they were touching. His anger with her suddenly dissipated and was instead replaced with the lust he felt for her body. She tried to pull away from him, leaning back.

"Edward, stop," Her voice was weak, her chiding, commanding tone was now thin and frail as paper.

"No."

He took his hand from her chin and laced his fingers through her hair. He had imagined doing this countless times. A tender loving touch as he drew her closer for a chaste, modest kiss. Now was not the time but his traitorous body was betraying his desire for her again. He felt out of touch with himself. Like he was watching from a distance.

He wanted to undo all her mysteries. If he couldn't have her thoughts he could at least have her body. Some measure of something. She had knowledge and he had nothing. He felt – empty – and her persistent distance only heightened that.

Edward closed the physical distance, his intense gaze traveling between her lips to her eyes and back. As he barely grazed her lips with his – the lightest and most delicate of a kiss – he realized that his body wasn't the only one betraying desire – hers was, too. The scent of her arousal clouded his mind and was all he needed to connect with her completely. Pressing his lips firmly to hers he felt fire sweep over his skin.

With his firm, cold skin he could feel her pulse – flesh to flesh – as if it was his own. Her heat was his, her skin was like a flame to his icy touch. Hair like strands of fine silk between his fingers. Her fingers clasped firmly with his behind his back. He moved his lips against hers, soft and delicate like the petals of a flower against his mouth. His nose pressed to her cheek, he breathed in her sweet perfume.

It wasn't enough – he wanted more. All of his fantasies rushed through his mind, enriched and brightened now knowing what her lips did feel like. Naked, supine taste. Red and pinked heat. Human touch and sweet flesh.

He froze. This would only end badly if he dared to deepen the kiss. The thought of having to stop was excruciating, like he was bereft of sense or part of his being. If something ever happened to her – it would be agony.

"Promise me."

Isabella met his eyes, her pulse slowed and her breaths steadied. "What?"

"Promise me you will wait for me."

Closing her eyes again, a shudder ran through her.

Edward wanted to draw her closer, touch his lips to hers again, but didn't. "Promise me."

Breathing in her scent, counting her breaths, sensing her pulse just under the heated surface. Waves.

"I'll try. I can't promise I won't but I will try."

That just wouldn't do. His irritation and frustration with her came back in full force. He turned his back to her, pinching the bridge of his nose to calm himself.

"Edward, I understand why you're so concerned. I really do. You have to trust me, though, I _know_ what I'm doing."

He scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "There is no way you could possibly understand. You might think you do but you don't."

"You don't know my mind. I'm not going to argue with you while you're being so immature and emotional."

"Emotional? Yes, Isabella, I'm afraid that's _exactly_ what I am when it comes to you." Clenching his fists to keep a hold of restraint as he turned to face her. The temptation to take her with him and put her away for safe keeping was incredibly strong. It seemed more and more logical as he stood eyeing her wounded face. Evidence of her humanity.

"Is that so wrong? How can I not…_feel_…something? I don't think you realize the hold that you have over me…and I _don't _mean my lust of your blood."

Her expression gave nothing back – calm and collect. He briefly wondered if she rarely felt anything. Was she as cold and vapid as the many he had dispensed with so long ago? Seeking out the answers by trying to peer into her mind – eyes which are windows to the soul. Giving nothing, now.

"Isabella. Over the last days I've done nothing but want you, intimately. It's clouding my mind and my judgment. It's all I can think about. I shouldn't want you that way…but I do. I shouldn't need you that way…but I do. It's not respectful, appropriate or fair. I do, anyway. I can't tolerate the idea of something happening to you. Look what already _happened_ to you."

"You don't have to do this to yourself. It's ok and I _really_ understand how you feel."

"Do you? I don't think you do, Isabella." He paced to try to work off his agitation, tampering down his instinct to run and escape with her, "I've never _wanted_ someone before the way I _want_ you."

"Edward!" For the first time Isabella raised her voice, "No more. I know you. You don't know me but I _do_ know you." Her words spilled out in a rush, hands motioning wildly in the air, "One day maybe I can tell you how and why. For right now you will just have to trust me when I say I understand, I truly do."

Turning away – exasperated - he heard enough.

"I understand more about you than you do about yourself, evidently. I'll be damned if I have to listen to you accuse me of being in the dark when all I've ever _known_ is you."

He turned quickly to look at her when the last words left her mouth. His eyes matched hers; wide with shock. Isabella's small hand pressed firmly to her mouth as if to keep herself from saying more.

"What do you mean? _All you've ever know_?"

He took a step towards her, his mind racing – trying to piece together what he learned from her accidental slips and omissions. Her hands raised in the air as if to push him away, fear in her eyes.

"You need to go home to your family and discuss this with them."

"No."

"Yes."

He sighed, fisted his hands in his hair trying to tamp down his raging emotions and thoughts. Meanwhile, Isabella seemed once again to be calm and collect.

"No." He refused to give in to her demands – she was being so cryptic – he couldn't tolerate giving into her demands anymore.

"I see." She nodded. "Esme will be upset with you more than she already is."

He pocketed his hands and calmly considered this new tactic of hers. She did know him well, it almost worked. "She'll understand." Banking on Esme's compassion hadn't steered him wrong, yet.

"Carlisle will be disappointed."

"He'll forgive me."

"What are you going to do, then, follow me everywhere?"

The idea hadn't occurred to him but once she mentioned it – it seemed entirely acceptable.

"That would even the field, here. You know so much and I know so little."

She raised her brow in response, "Very well. Do what you wish. I wish to go home…and sleep."

~x~X~x~

When Edward approached his home, alone, the heft of the impending family meeting pressed onto him like an uncomfortable weight. How much would they ask, how much would he have to tell? Between Isabella already knowing so much – a frightening, untold amount – and his family knowing nothing and being curious to a fault – he felt trapped and exposed.

Like he had been stripped of all privacy.

Of course, Isabella was right to point out the irony of that fact.

His family was already anticipating his arrival, having heard his footsteps. From the thoughts of the family on his approach he gleamed that Alice had already briefed Carlisle on what she had seen so far of Isabella. One murder. Why had she not seen the other? Their minds were an assault on his senses. As it appeared; the family wasn't entirely in the dark – though it was dark enough.

A muddle of potent thoughts and warm opinions based on what they knew already. Carlisle was aloof and needing to know more, an undercurrent of concern for the safety of the family.

Rosalie was hurling insults, creativity waning as of late – all centering around loathing the danger the family - and therefor she - was in.

Emmett was entirely pleased with the idea of getting to know Isabella somehow – he had labeled her actions as rogue and daring.

Esme was concerned for Isabella's future – already knowing their role was to do the proper thing; report the activities somehow. Either report the murders or the missing individuals or Isabella altogether. She was torn.

The flow of inner thoughts was interrupted by Carlisle – answering a call from Alice. Tensing with panic - immediately Edward made his way to the garage. Isabella was in trouble – all he knew was that Alice's vision placed her south off of Highway 101 near Cedar Creek Cabin. Time unknown; as it stood - She was in danger and not alone.

As his foot pressed the gas pedal Carlisle, Emmett and Rosalie joined him in the vehicle. Carlisle wouldn't stand for Edward to handle this alone. There was no arguing – Isabella was now a family affair and no longer Edward's private muse.

He cursed himself for not having holed Isabella away when he first thought of it. They could be seeking absolution to his fantasies now, not rushing to save her from herself.

Speeding south - all he could think of was the touch and taste of her on his lips and her words, "...all I've ever _known_ is you."

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**A/N: Oh - first kiss. Edward and his wayward mind and one track body can't turn away from her no matter what, it seems.**

** Anyone figure out what she's able to do, yet? If Edward was paying any attention to her words and not her lips he would have already put two-and-two together but he's too busy with other things. . .Even though she slipped up twice, he's still not thinking with his brain. Maybe that will change, soon?**

**I struggled the most with this chapter so it took longer to write - I had a hard time figuring out how to work the family into it. The setting of a family-discussion around the table just didn't work out even though I wrote it over and over. I eventually figured that with Isabella it just wouldn't happen that way. She's not BookBella - nothing will happen as it did in the Saga . . . there's no cozy time around the fireplace. This Bella is 50 Shades of Purple and loves the woods and she is trouble. When the family shows up to intervene will she respond with a smile or spit fire?**

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**Author's Note 3/27/2013: edited for errors and continuity flaws.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A Wolf Amidst the Sheep – Chapter 6**

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**Preface Note: It won't be habit - But after struggling for so long on the previous chapter I decided to get this short chapter out - it's pivotal and vital for the two of them so it doesn't need length.**

* * *

She wasn't alone – and she was in danger. That's all Alice knew. The events of the day, the kiss, the endless nagging unknown questions – none of that mattered.

Carlisle was along to save a life.

Edward was going to save Isabella from further detriment.

The tires squealed over a curve taken far too tightly, churning up dirt and rock as the rear wheel skittered off the road. Considering the territory they were entering in and the distance to travel driving was far faster than running. Now Edward regretted his choice. Either way, he had to accept, his family wouldn't have been far behind.

He didn't want this – her issues and this - to be how she met the family. He hoped for something more – normal. That wasn't meant to be. The phrase 'Fate was a cruel Mistress' came to mind. So true.

As they neared the turn off for the Cabin Edward pulled off to the side of the road – his extra sense reaching out to listen to minds around him. Where was she? Scoping, scanning, seeking out her scent.

Nothing.

"She's not here yet," he called out. Answering everyone's unasked question as they scanned the area – they didn't know how to seek her out. They were following his lead.

"Alice, what do you see, now?" Carlisle asked into his cellphone.

"She's at SeaTac."

Edward ripped the phone from Carlisle's hand, "Where is she going?"

"I don't know…I can't see."

"What do you mean you can't see?" He was flustered, running his hands through his hair. Panicked and angry. Angry with her for doing anything after she promised. For keeping herself so closed off and distant to begin with. This was definitely not a charm of Isabella – the ability to drive a vampire insane. "Alice…what did you see earlier? Are we too late, is she hurt?"

"I haven't seen her kill anyone, if that's what you're asking. I haven't-" Alice fell silent.

"What?" He hissed out, "What do you see, now? Did she change her mind again?"

"Yes, she did, she's at her home again and you're there. She's angry with you."

He snorted. That wasn't a first. Edward was beginning to realize that Isabella was angry a lot with him. He took off running towards Isabella's home, asking for her address from Alice before the connection was lost.

Not too long after he was at her doorstep – punching his finger to the doorbell. The strangeness of being at her home and on her front porch with its flaking white paint and cracked porch façade dawning to him. This was the first time seeing her outside of the woods. It seemed so foreign.

"I decided not to go to the cabin, didn't I? You couldn't have just left it alone?" She hissed out as she flung the door open.

Edward was not swayed by her attitude and tone. He could feel the tension rolling off of her in waves of unfettered heat. He was, however, fully aware of her without her coat. For the first time he could see her figure. A blue blouse hugged her ample breasts and narrow waist. His eyes wandered unpermitted down to her hips. A knee length white skirt. His fingers twitched with the urge to reach out and touch her, pull her close.

He brought is eyes back up to hers, meeting her angry glare, "Did you have something planned, Isabella? You promised you wouldn't."

Lips curled with a sneer, "I ended up having to cancel my trip, no thanks to your sister. Alice is wonderful and sweet when she wants to be but at what point was this suddenly involving the _entire family?_"

"You know everything, Isabella. Why don't you tell me?"

She turned quickly on her heel and stalked into the house. Edward took her retreating form and lack of dismissal as tacit invitation. He looked around the living room as he stepped through the door. Modest, simple, aged. An old blue striped sofa sat in front of a large television.

While she busied herself in the kitchen he walked towards the fire place. A picture of a fishing boat on the water and pictures of Isabella in her childhood. Innocent and sweet.

Before photos.

Looking at her in an Easter Dress with a colorful egg in her hand he couldn't help but puzzle over how such a sweet little precious girl became what she is now.

"Why do you do it, Isabella?" He asked while placing the photo back on the mantle, carefully wiping dust from the top. It seemed wrong for such a sweet photo to sit dirty.

"Because he can't."

"Who can't?"

"My father…he can't." She entered the room with a cup of hot tea in her hand. "They can't. The law. There is never enough evidence. There's never enough proof. That's what I hear from him all the time," Sighing, she sat down at the far side of the couch, crossing her legs.

"How do you have proof, then?" He hesitated before sitting at the opposite end of the couch. In this setting the closeness he felt to her just hours earlier when they kissed seemed out of place. He was filled with uneasiness.

It was all so domestic.

She said nothing, Edward tensed as he suppressed irritation with her silence.

"How do you know they're guilty?" He prodded, watching the light glint off of waves of air as it spilled over her shoulder and down her arm and chest. Adverting his eyes to control his thoughts - he needed to stay focused on her actions, not her body. Quite the challenge, her legs were stunning so exposed. Almost sinful, they would look incredibly alluring bathed in crimson ribbons.

He chastised himself again.

"Edward." She sighed before sipping her tea.

He looked at her – meeting her eyes. Noting how she looked so different under the false light. It cast a pale orange glow over her otherwise pale peach features.

"I promised you and I intend to keep that promise. I won't do anything without you."

Biting back a smile, he kept his eyes on hers.

"Obviously Alice's gift has sharpened and I can't go unseen by her anymore so there's really no point in trying." She smiled then.

Edward only frowned, his brow knit with frustration, "Isabella. How do you know that?"

He glanced at the clock on the mantle. All of the afternoon's events transpired within the last hour. The family, Alice's changing visions.

It didn't make sense – how did she know? How did she know about Alice's vision when the only two people present for the last conversation were Edward and Alice. Was she listening to his phone calls? His mind raced through the possibilities.

She had a power and apparently that was to compel him to want to commit murder out of anger.

His eyes narrowed at her, "Tell me how you know."

She shook her head vigorously.

Yes – she wouldn't say, would she? He was going to have to figure it out on his own. Without her. A mere human couldn't possibly know so much as to outwit a vampire. That was simply not possible. In fact, she had even let slip a few things she apparently meant to keep quiet.

In his mind he played over every detail of their time together. The first time he inhaled her glorious scent. The first time he watched her from the branches in the woods. Every word and conversation they had.

"Edward, don't."

He shot his eyes over to her.

"What?"

"I know what you're doing."

"How do you know! Damnit Isabella! How do you know!" He stood, paced through the room, fists clenched. "Tell me, then, what am I doing?"

"You're trying to figure it out." Again, her voice was calm and collect. So controlled and smooth.

It only served to spike his anger with her. "Of course I am." He growled at her, "Am I stupid to you? You think I won't figure it out?"

She gasped, "No, you're not. I don't think it's a good idea for you to know."

"Maybe I should determine that for myself, do you think?"

"You'll be angry with me once you know."

"More angry than I am now? You're on par with Rosalie, that's for certain. You and her are tied for being able to aggravate me such."

Isabella's jaw went slack with an audible gasp, her eyes flew open wide. She stood, pausing in her stride before walking to the door.

"I think you should go." She turned the knob and stepped back to hold the door open wide. A gust of frigid air swept in carrying with it the scent of the piney woods from across the street.

He slowly walked towards the door, stewing in his irritation, frustration. Angry with his ignorance and blindness. He felt like a fool. She held so much sway over him and he knew nothing.

He was in the dark.

If he walked out that door, though, he might never be able to come back to her and how things were before. When they were alone in the woods - that's where they should be.

He stood, one hand resting on the exposed doorframe. Taking in the sight of a coatless Isabella. Chillbumps over the soft flesh of her arms. Creamy white skirt fluttering in the breeze, clinging to her legs. The soft curve of her neck as she scowled at the floor beneath her feet drew his eye.

Before he was fully aware of his actions his lips were pressed to hers. Seeking comfort and passion in her body, her warmth, her pulse. Needing her this way. Had to have her this way. Her heat raced through his cold flesh, borrowed warmth. He never felt so human.

Isabella had not returned the kiss.

He pulled away, his lips just barely touching the flesh of her forehead, "What do I need to do, Isabella?"

Typical silence.

"I can't read your mind, you know." He sighed. "Maybe if you could read mine it would make this so much easier for me."

Of all the things to divide them and separate them, all of her complications and his flaws – it was her nature to be distant that was keeping them apart. He might not have been human but now that he had tasted a little bit of what he was missing he wished more than anything that he could be.

There was only one thing he knew she wanted.

One thing – and he could give it to her.

"I'll help you…but _only_ to keep you safe."

Her eyes shot up to his, lit with blissful fire like a child at Christmas. Ecstatic, "Really?"

He laughed. Yes, really.

She flung her arms around him and returned his kiss by peppering his firm jaw and cheeks with little sweet pecks.

Anything for Isabella.

* * *

**A/N: Updated End notes (added on 1/25/2013) - so right now I'm working on the next chapters. I am also going to go back over the first 6 that have been posted and correct a few small errors (mostly grammatical / syntax - but two minor continuity errors). I will adjust a few lines of dialogue so it's easier to follow who said what. If you've read the story before these updates and changes (which I hope to have done within the next 5 days) then you're not actually missing much - you don't need to stress or worry about re-reading. It won't change the story at all - it just smooths it over. For future chapters I will be more careful as I publish to avoid issues. I don't want to confuse anyone and throw anyone off the plot and story line with errors of this nature - they can be distracting if they're not caught and cleaned up.**

* * *

**Author's Note: 3/28/2013 - more editing for small errors.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A Wolf Amidst the Sheep – Chapter 7**

This was how he needed it to be. This is how it _should_ be. A man and a woman together in the light. Not divided by darkness. His arm around her narrow waist. Her lips pressed to his. Willing and wanting. She tasted sweet, a smooth floral flavor. Flesh soft like flower petals taut over a crystal vase. Fingers in his hair holding him tightly. Edward could lose himself in her kiss, in her warmth. In her heat.

This was not at all like their first kiss. This was deeper, sweeter, more passionate. Isabella held nothing back. No doubt as attracted to him, as allured to him as he was to her. He could smell it in her scent.

He ran his nose along the smooth flesh of her jaw. "Tell me. Why does my help matter to you so much?"

As he expected, she said nothing. Though she was giving herself over slowly to his touch. Relaxing into his embrace with each kiss.

"Tell me why you do it or I won't assist you." Now softly kissing the curve of her cheekbone, along her temple.

"I told you," She whispered, her shallow pants robbing her of breath.

"No, you avoided it. You were put out with me. I want a _real_ answer," He brought his lips to hers, again. A languid, deep kiss.

"It would be wrong…for me not to." She brought her mouth to his for another kiss, "To know and…and let them…go."

"Why murder them? So calculated and coldly? Why not handle it more…appropriately. If at all?"

Sighing, "_You_ didn't."

Gripping her more tightly around the waist, "This isn't about me, Isabella." He growled quietly in her ear, "I did it to survive…and I _stopped_. It was wrong. And you?"

A tear ran down her cheek, he kissed it away.

"I need it, too." Her voice was hoarse and tense, "It's what I am."

"No, it's not. You don't have to be this way. I fight my nature. You can fight yours."

"No, I can't," She ran her nose along his chest, "I need it."

"How many?" He ran his fingers along her sides, warm flesh just under thin cloth. Treasuring the sensation of her heartbeat as it surged through her veins. The racing rhythm was hypnotic. Thoughts of floating in small garden pond as a child came to him.

Barely shaking her head no, breaking his reverie, "I don't want to say."

Bringing his mouth to hers, again, for another deep kiss. "Why me?"

Isabella didn't reply, she reached for another kiss but Edward turned his head. Denying her what she wanted.

Stroking his fingers through the hair that fell down her back, "I had the _gift _of being able to read their thoughts. What do you have?" He asked while bending lower to kiss the arch of her neck. "How do you know?"

"I don't want to tell you." Her voice barely a whisper.

Hardly surprised. He nipped at her earlobe with his lips, eliciting a moan from her throat that vibrated through him.

"If you want me to help you." He traced the shell of her ear with his tongue, "then I _need_ to know."

Swallowing rapidly, her legs shaking with the effort to step away from him. "Edward, Stop," Her voice was watery thin, like warmed honey. Holding no conviction.

He smiled against the skin of her shoulder as he traced his fingers along the neck of her blouse. Tickling her with the tip of his nose, sending a soft shudder through her.

"No. I won't stop," He ran his fingers along the curve of her spine, tracing each vertebra, "I like you _this_ way."

Sucking in a wild breath of air, "I can't think."

"Then don't." He pulled her closer, "Just tell me."

She swallowed and breathed deeply, body still lax in his embrace, "I don't want to."

He paused for a moment to enjoy the sensation of her body held firmly against his. He could feel every curve, ever muscle and every bone. "Why not?" He asked while trailing his mouth lightly back to her neck.

Isabella whimpered with a moan as he nipped at her ear again, "I'm afraid."

"Of what?" His effect on her physically was more efficient than truth serum. It was pleasing to have finally found a way to persuade her to be more forthcoming.

Her voice quivered, "What you'll do."

"I swear I won't hurt you."

"I never meant for this to happen," Her voice was strained, quivering with emotion. Tears slipped between her clenched eyelids and spilled down her cheek - moist heat spilling onto the cold skin of his neck.

"For what?" He breathed in her scent, marveling at how the inner monster was safely locked away.

"I never meant to hurt you."

Wiping the tear from her face with his thumb, "How? Isabella." He trailed his lips over her cheek, kissing lightly. "The only way you can hurt me is to keep yourself away from me." Many different things were classified this way; physical distance, emotional distance, imprisonment, physical harm. So many ways to lose her. All of her own creation.

"You'll leave," Her voice hoarse and tight.

He kissed away another tear, the salty floral tang was like candy to his tongue, "Tell me and I promise I'll stay."

"I've never told anyone."

"I'm not just anyone, am I?"

She shook her head no, ever so slightly before swallowing again as she clenched her eyes closed.

"I swear," He whispered into her ear.

"I don't want you to be angry with me."

He sighed into the lock of her hair trapped behind her ear. They were now repeating what they had said before. Circles. Mobius circles of frustration and nowhere.

Instead, he brought his lips to hers again. Trying to unlock her desperate need to hide with his lips and tongue. Coaxing truths from Isabella while under duress of bodily contact was a pleasant turn of events for the day.

While memorizing her body's curves with his hands he considered what he could manage if he put aside the coercive tactics and tended to his deeper wants. It was then that the sound of a car pulling into the gravel driveway outside interrupted everything.

Nuzzling her head against his chest, "My father's home. I'm sure he'd love to me you."

The thought brought Edward to a cold realization – Chief Swan's daughter was a criminal and Edward was guilty by association. Thinking of meeting him on these terms made him feel physically ill. "I'll be going, actually."

Isabella smiled, laughing quietly. The light glinting off her deep, earthy brown irises as she raised her eyes to meet his.

"I'll meet him some other time," He leaned down to kiss her one last time, inhaling the scent of her lips and tears before leaving through the back door. Stepping out into the cold, the intoxicating effects of her body wore away with the frigid breeze. He realized he couldn't do it. Help her. Truly help her? In the way she wanted?

It was too much against his nature.

No.

"Isabella?" He called out, feet nesting in the damp, lush grass of the lawn.

She met his eyes through the distance of the darkened kitchen, scowling. Clenching her jaw and fists.

"When you're ready to tell me what I want to know then stop by. You can finally say hello to Esme." He smirked. "Since you know _everything_…You know Alice will see anything you try and, again, we will intervene somehow. You know where I live." He turned his back to her, pushing aside a twinge of guilt that he felt over her furious glare that now burned into the flesh of his back.

With that he was gone. Truly alone in the woods to make his way home. To family who would be none too pleased with his twisted desires and dark half-promises. To the invitation of one Isabella Swan to visit.

~x~X~x~

"I don't trust her." Rosalie spat out, punctuating her words with a judgmental finger. "She's manipulating you. It's obvious to me, it should be obvious to you. And she's coming here!"

"I'm not necessarily in disagreement with you," Again, Edward returned his side of the argument, "I don't entirely trust her, either. There's more to it than that, though. More than what I can tell you."

"Of course! I get it. You think she's _pretty!" _Rosalie all but spit fire at him, laying it out that being attractive was a foul deed. "One hundred years and you fall for a human. At that. She's a _danger _to _us_. You've invited her into our _home._ You're a pig." With that Rosalie was through the door and gone.

_Fighting with her won't help matters. _Carlisle offered up from his seat at the desk in his study. _Though I think we all agree with her view that Isabella's trying to take advantage of us in order to commit these crimes. I do, however, disagree with you on how we should respond._

"I will stop her. I know I can. So much of her is as _I_ use to be. If I can change and turn against my nature I'm certain she can. Alice and Jasper will be here within a few hours and they will want to help me. Help her. Is it so wrong to want to…redirect her?"

_Of all of us, yes, I suppose you're the only one who has some sort of awareness of how she is thinking. It is also obvious that you have feelings for her of some nature or you wouldn't want to risk so much._

"There's nothing to risk for us."

_Now you're being obtuse. The moment we went to find her it became a risk for us. If she does come here that risk is only heightened._

Edward sighed, frustration again taking dominance. Embarrassment as well. It was a last moment effort to gain the upper hand. Leaning further over the polished rail he looked out into the wooded hillside beside their home. "I know."

Now that he had his hands on her. Her rounded hips, firm thighs, delicate waist. Her lips, neck and hands. Tasting her flesh, feeling her give into him as her resistance slipped. He couldn't stop thinking about her. All the many ways he wanted to be with her and couldn't.

All that he knew were a list of unknowns. Jaded answers and elusiveness from Isabella. He was compelled to figure her out but he didn't know how. He had answered one question; she didn't want to tell him what her ability was because she was afraid of how he'd respond.

Nonetheless, if she was afraid of him being angry or leaving she hadn't yet considered what her snide and elusive behavior would drive him to do.

The other important question was why. Why did she kill? When he asked her response was that she did it because she could. _They were guilty and she knew they were. _That failed to explain anything. It only confirmed her God-Complex and was a heady reminder of his days long ago when he felt the same.

What changed him was having a reason greater than his nature to see to. His desire to trump his nature was powerful and divisive enough to stand on it's own. It was a mere matter of want; he wanted to change. So he did.

How does one help another to see their wrongs? He didn't even trust her. She wanted him to trust her, blindly. An impossibility. It required too much blind trust from him where all he was given were two incomplete answers.

Edward huffed in annoyance with this revelation. He only saw the potential for disaster. Her life, the life of an innocent, her freedom if Carlisle delivered her in to the arms of the law as he had threatened to do.

Rosalie's thoughts echoed through his mind: _She belonged either in prison or in the ground._ He couldn't let either of those things happen.

Failing Isabella would be like failing himself.

Edward tried to listen again to Carlisle's thoughts but he was guarded. That was ok, Edward knew Carlisle's base views on this topic. Carlisle wanted to follow the moral, legal path. However, Carlisle was in the dark; unable to report her activities for lack of knowledge and for fear of bringing scrutiny to the family.

For right now they were to keep watch and run interference.

Another reason for Edward to make any effort necessary to redirect Isabella's path. Not to forgo the thoughts he had of her; he simply wanted to be with her. Her path was preventing that from being a possibility.

Another chilled breeze flowed with the smell of decaying forest bracken and cedar. Breathing deeply, he relaxed into the air.

Waiting.

She would come. He knew it. With the family having gone hunting he lost himself in the distant sound of water slowly dripping from a leafy pool high in the canopy of a tree. Counting the drips. _Nine-hundred twenty-two. Nine-hundred twenty-three._

His hearing turned towards the woods. The direction of Isabella's home. The town of Forks as it settled into quiet under the dark. Too far for him to hear any thoughts.

There was nothing. No sign of her approach. No trace of her scent in the air.

~x~X~x~

The night slowly passed. Off in the distance gravel and rock crunched as a vehicle turned off of the highway and onto the winding driveway that led to the Cullen's home. The purr of an engine, the gripping crunch of tires on rock grew louder with their approach. Alice was intent on blocking her thoughts. Jasper was reading his emotional state. Everyone else waited patiently for him to join them. He did so grudgingly. Still keeping an ear out for any sounds of Isabella.

Jasper and Alice were returning to an unusual and different set of circumstances. It only set him more on edge. What if they rejected his request to lend their assistance?

The ultimatum he gave Isabella; his assistance for her truth. It seemed like a fair exchange. He offered it up in a feeble attempt to gain some sort of control over her, though as of yet, the effort to control Isabella had garnered him exactly nothing.

What if she chose to continue without him? She might have been aroused under his ministrations but she wasn't enamored with him like he was with her.

Reality was unsettling.

As everyone convened in the living room; with its sprawling layout and vast spans of surround glass walls. Once inviting to Edward it now was hollow and disconcerting. He wanted to go back; back to the loneness of the woods. Back to Isabella. Before it all began to unravel.

Edward hung back from this family tradition. Soon the pleasantries would be over with and the center of discussion would be him. Him and Isabella. He was dreading the discussion, the thoughts that would assault him from everyone's raucous minds. The plans that would have to be made, the questions that would be asked which he had no answers for.

Esme interrupted his pensive thoughts, "Edward. Walk with me." She held her hand out to him, inviting him for a stroll through the night.

"Earlier I heard you say you felt lost and confused?" Edward clenched his jaw and looked away, back out into the woods. Everything was so simple when it was just him and Isabella in the woods together. Alone. Now things were strange, senseless and complicated.

"You need to sort all this out. I'm even confused after all you've talked about. I'll ask questions, then, and you answer. Let's keep it simple." She squeezed his hand, offering comfort.

The crisp air whipped through the trees, shaking the leaves and making the canopy dance.

"You like her?"

Nodding, "Yes."

"You do or don't like that she killed someone?"

"Two people."

Esme corrected herself with a sigh, "Yes. Two people?"

"Yes and no."

"Explain, please."

He paused, considering his thoughts and feelings as he watched her taking the life of The Male in the woods that first time. "It was incredibly…alluring…watching her. I've never seen a female do anything like that before. It was scandalous. She was in danger, though, I even thought of killing him to spare her. She did it though and it was just…sensual in a strange way. Though…I know that finding anything appealing in the act is less than honorable. Or even rational. Saying it out loud to you, Mother, makes me feel all the more horrible for it."

"Ok. So now explain the no."

His mother's lack of judgment and ridicule relaxed him. This was not as off putting as having all of these thoughts and feelings aired during a family discussion. This was tolerable.

"It's not right. For one, she could get hurt. She already did. For another, she might be _more_ than hurt. These men she's confronting and dispensing are quite capable of taking advantage of her or killing her, even. The thought makes me ill. On top of that, it's wrong. Morally, legally. She shouldn't be doing it."

"Ok. Next question. Why is she doing it?"

"She said she does it because she can. Because they are guilty but that the law isn't…doing its job right. It makes little sense. It reminds me of how I use to be."

"So you want to save her?"

"Exactly."

"Do you believe she wants to be helped?"

He sighed heavily. "I'm not sure. She accused me of being a hypocrite with how I viewed my ability. Perhaps I can get her to see that in herself?"

"So, what are you planning on doing?"

"I don't know. She wants me to help her. At first I told her yes, but then I realized I couldn't do that. I had to tell her no. My no, however, was more of a way to get her to be more forthcoming with me, I'm afraid. I do intend to help in some fashion. To be honest, my thoughts were to use my gift to actually find the missing evidence to legally convict these individuals. Her accusation of me being a wasteful hypocrite was, well, accurate."

They paused their stroll to watch as the clouds covered the fattened moon.

"I want something with her. Something I cannot have. I'm still very confused. I want to avoid her, trust her, help her, and change her. I cannot decide which one."

"You need to make up your mind, Edward. You really need to weigh out the reasons why you want to become more involved than you already are. Have you thought about why she's doing all of this to begin with?"

He looked at her with confusion.

"Do you honestly believe that her showing up one night in the woods where you hunt was an accident? From how I see it…from how we _all_ see it…she was planning on all of this from the start. It seems that perhaps your attraction to her is undermining your focus on the much bigger picture."

Silence, only the sound of twigs and foliage crushing underfoot crackled through the night.

"Perhaps that's what she wants from you?" Esme continued, "If we weren't already involved in this to a degree my advice to you would be to avoid her. My deepest concern is, of course, for the safety of the entire family. Not from Isabella herself. I see no threat in her directly to us. However, with her activities comes the risk of the Volturi being brought into our lives. That is what we cannot have. However, since we are involved I cannot settle on that advice. The only other clear path, to me, is to help her change."

Sighing, again, she added, "That is pointless, however, because if you care for her in the slightest I know you will do what you believe is right for you and her and _not_ what I would encourage."

On this, Esme was entirely correct. She was mother with good reason.

They continued on their quiet walk alongside the river. Crickets and the chirp of willows in the distance. The natural peace of the night was interrupted minutes later with Alice's frantic thoughts.

_Edward! It's Isabella. She's leaving again. Naperville, Illinois. She's going to Naperville, Illinois. I saw too late. She's already on her way. By plane, she'll be arriving soon._

* * *

**A/N: Poor Alice can't seem to get a break.**

**At this point Edward is very slowly working through his feelings - trying to get his crazy mix of emotions in order. His desires for her, physically, are slowly being balanced with logic, reasoning and that pesky thing known as morality. To his benefit he's discovered Isabella has a weakness: his physical proximity. . . But at this point - who actually believes Isabella? Is she telling any truths, now? Stubborn as ever - is she really afraid of how he'd respond to her when he finds out the secret she's hiding? Or all we all on board with Edward in the "don't trust her" department - no matter what?**

**Sorry to leave everyone in the dark for so long - my life was shaken up a bit. At first in a good way but then in a very nasty sickly sort of way. So we're back on track with writing and publishing.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A Wolf Amidst the Sheep – Chapter 8**

From the concealment of the darkness; Edward watched as Isabella stepped onto the patio. Clad now in a long burgundy raincoat. Bare legs shining softly in the moonlight. The black leather of her boots glinting as she made her way to the garden bench, the sound of rubber heels pressing lightly to wood.

This was the third night during which Edward hung to the shadows of the woods just behind the red brick residential townhouse nested at the edge of the town. After a few minutes the bitter sweet scent of sugared coffee rose through the air. She kept her eyes down, watching the subdued amber moonbeams dance off of the small fountain fed pond set alongside the patio.

Alone. They were together but separate. As they were in the beginning.

Edward let his mind wander back to the first night he saw her in the woods. It seemed like such a long time ago but it had not yet been two months.

He had no idea that first night, that moment when they crossed her path in the forest of Forks that he would be here. Skulking in the treetops like an injured lemur. Her hair, her eyes, her scent, her silent mind. What he could not make sense of was why was he unable to simply turn her over to authorities as Carlisle wanted to do.

She was broken, somehow. He wanted to fix Isabella Swan.

Humming an unknown melody, she crossed and uncrossed her legs as she drank. Listening to the birds in the air not asleep for the night. Inhaling deeply as the breeze stirred, bringing with it the more domesticated smells of suburban night. Freshly trimmed lawn chased with floral and other such greenery.

He wanted, desperately, to go to her. At the same time he didn't. He was torn in two. There was a strange sensation, like a wall or a blockade was between them now. Constructed of his shame and mistrust.

Shame from the fact that instead of waiting for her to come to him at his home, seeking him out, he had followed her several states away as she traveled to Illinois. He had tried to save face and reassert control over their strange situation and yet had come tagging along behind her like a faithful mutt.

Mistrust wasn't new. The mistrust he felt towards her had grown and multiplied in force. Trust in her is what she wanted, however, that was one thing he was unable, or perhaps unwilling, to give. Him being here, for example, he came expecting her to be seeking out a new victim. Here she was tending to quaint matters of the flower garden and koi pond.

Embarrassment kept him firmly rooted to the tree branches. He chose to stay silent and in the dark rather than going to her. If he went to her she'd know he followed out of mistrust and he felt nothing but shame. He was clinging to the last shred of dignity he had left.

Via the treetop perch.

All the many ways he was drawn to her had not lessened. He sat and watched her from afar; her slender fingers as she gripped the ceramic mug, causing her tendons to stand out and strain slightly. The peach of her hands going pink with the heat. Her exposed legs smooth and silken under the moonlight, how different the light was here in Illinois though the moon had not changed. The trees, the atmosphere, her colors. These things did change.

He lost himself in memories of how he had touched those lips, ran his fingers down the gentle arch of her spine. Tasted her salt, tears and flesh. Always so beautiful. A tantalizing vision. Vicious and cruel; all that he wanted.

"Edward, are you going to sulk in the darkness the entire time you're here or will you be proper and at least say hello?"

He laughed silently. Of course he hadn't escaped her all-seeing eye, Isabella Swan was aware of everything.

"I can tell you this much," she giggled quietly, "I did not know you had decided to follow me until it was too late to do anything about it."

He sat silent for a few minutes. _Of course_ she knew he was there. Letting himself believe otherwise was senseless.

"I didn't realize you had a crystal ball hidden away in your Aunt Gina's house, Isabella."

She laughed loudly, "You caught me there. I left it at home in Forks. Last time I tried to take it on a flight security took it upon themselves to mug me for it."

Shaking her head while turning around to look into the opaqueness of the tree line, her waves of dark chestnut hair spilling over her shoulder and down to her lap. "Can you please come out here so we can talk?"

He shifted on the branch, but was determined not to come to her purely at her asking. "No. I don't believe I want to give you the pleasure."

Laughing heartily at his revelation, "Of course not." Her eyes lit up with amusement, glinting softly in the light, "Ever the stubborn. I refuse to talk to the darkness, though. Aiming for night four?"

"It's not too dark, you are looking at me."

Turning away from him with a rough sigh, "Talking to ghostly eye shine is not the same as talking to someone vis a vis."

He sat in silence again, letting his mind wander. Taking in how the moonlight gave her peach skin a pale, ghostly glow. Thinking of their first kiss and then their second. How she felt against his lips with his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. Warm, soft and delicate. In stark contrast to her darker side that was hidden away. Then, how she looked now. Like berries in the winter. Crisp, clean. A tangy red wine, perhaps.

She raised the mug to her lips for another sip, faint traces of steam swirling across her cheeks and touching her lashes. The muscles of her throat tensed as she swallowed. Reminding him of her most debased moment in the night so many days ago.

Blood.

In the moonlight, wearing the deep, plush burgundy. She looked as if she was dipped in blood. The unbidden thought forced its way to the forefront of his mind. He swallowed a mouthful of tangy venom, sending a cold, fiery burn through the tissues of his throat. Lighting a fire in his belly, a growing, gnawing, harsh ache. He leaned into the scent as it wafted in the air.

His muscles tensed, his senses honed in on her; the rush of blood just under her thin flesh. All he had to do was make his way to her quickly and take her. She might be able to subdue a man but she could not subdue him.

The caw of a crow sounded out, jarring him from his darkened thoughts.

He swallowed again before he spoke, "I'm sorry I followed you."

She nodded, saying nothing.

"Do you mind me asking, though, why you are here?"

She sighed, flexing her shoulders with a rolling motion, "I'm afraid I owe you and apology. In fact, Edward," She turned to look at him. Her body angling at the waist to position herself just right. The calm expression she wore so flawlessly gave nothing away, "I owe you an explanation. Or two."

He nodded as she turned back towards the small pond of water with its miniature trickling fount of cold water. Yes, she most certainly owed an explanation or two. Who was he, though, to expect such after stalking her into the next state?

"Please tell me you understand why I can't tell you, though, about certain things."

That snapped him out of his dejected mood, he leapt down and slowly made his way over to her. The closer he was to her, her heat, her heartbeat, the stronger her pull was. Drawing him in. Like an unseen hand guiding him to her.

He resisted the last few steps. Stopping a few feet away. Her delicate frame looking diminished and overshadowed. For a brief moment he thought of him looking over her and how it seemed fitting; the monster leering over the helpless maiden in a twisted and dark fairytale. The flora and trickling water gave it a demented touch.

He clenched his eyes shut and steadied his resolve. Reminding himself of the strange, twisted nature of their relationship. Her penchant for ill-deeds. How he couldn't allow it to continue. She might be too broken to fix but he had to try. "Can you tell me that much, please?"

"Genuinely interested?"

"Perhaps." He opened his eyes again to look at her. His eyes were drawn to the tucked V of her coat collar, a shadowed triangle skimmed with flesh and burgundy.

He brought his eyes up to her face when she set her mug down on the bench and folded her hands neatly in her lap. "My Aunt Gina was recently moved to a nursing home. I came to handle a few things so her home can be put on the market."

He felt like a fool.

"Among other things."

Of course, in Isabella's sphere there were always _other things._

"As in?" He prodded.

"She was involved in a charity project of sorts."

Edward quirked his eyebrow at the thought, "Oh, what might that be?"

Raising her eyes to look at the moon, "It's for abuse survivors." After a moment her serene mask fell slightly. Eyebrows puckers just a little, losing herself in thought.

"Does it mean a lot to her?"

Startled slightly, she was brought out of her thoughts, "Of course, it's sort of a family thing, really. It means a lot to me, too."

Another curiosity.

"I'll explain more about that one day." Her voice was thick and heavy. If Edward didn't know better he would say that that Isabella was on the verge of crying. Not like the other day where anger and frustration boiled over with passion and lust. No, this was purely sadness.

She shifted on the bench, cleared her throat. "Tomorrow morning, though, I have a meeting with the head of the organization. They're coming in the afternoon to take her belongings. No sense in throwing it all away." Quickly she picked her now empty mug up and stood, the heavy rustle of her fabric sounding out loudly in the quiet of the night.

"Would you like to come inside?" A pleased grin spread across her lips, "or have you made good friends with the bats?"

He slipped one hand into his coat pocket, laughing, "Yes, thank you Isabella."

~x~X~x~

He sat at the kitchen counter, with its white laminated surface now yellowed with age. Tracing his fingers around an old stain now etched into the surface, watching as Isabella prepared herself a small late-evening dinner. The food looked detestable. She hardly appeared interested in it. The foul odor gave him something else to focus on other than the thick, heaviness of her scent in the air. He breathed in deeply, focusing on the little nuances of oregano and tomato paste.

Her smooth mask broke with an amused smile. Her eyes caught his as she leaned over the stove to click the whitewashed cabinet door shut. He shifted needlessly in his seat, she didn't look away. Slipping one hand into her coat pocket, she shifted on her feet. A gentle flush touched her cheeks.

"Edward, I," He lifted his eyes to meet hers, she looked away, "I'm trying to decide what I can tell you. How much to tell you. Though I shouldn't I really _want_ to tell you everything."

A warmth shot over his flesh. This was a different direction for her. She wanted to tell him everything, now? He gave her a reassuring smile, promising himself he wouldn't pressure her for information like a detective seeking out a suspect.

She turned to the counter, popped the lid on a clear plastic container to retrieve silverware.

"There are other things, though." She paused mid-motion while carrying her dinner plate to the table. "That I feel I _should_ tell you." Her heart rate sped slightly as she set her food down.

He left his seat at the counter to join her at the table, pulling out the chair across from her. His hands folded neatly on the worn oak slats. "What are these things regarding?"

"They're things that might affect you," she lifted her eyes to meet his, unshed tears glossing over her pupils, "and the family." The quickened pace of her pulse caused her body to jut with a swaying beat. "Though I'm trying to tell myself you need to know. I'm still worried."

Edward furrowed his brow, trying to imagine just what information or knowledge a human could poses which would jeopardize anything his family had built. "It's ok, Isabella. I'll listen and can handle anything you tell me."

Isabella brought her hand to her cheek, drawing her thumb to her mouth to bite at her nail. After a moment of deep thought she sighed and fluttered her hand away, "Maybe not, eh?" She smiled, "How about a more interesting subject. Who we are? You've researched family history, have you not?"

He smiled, immediately a fuzzy human memory of his mother came to mind. The emotions were most sharp, he loved her immensely. "Yes, I have, to an extent. There's only so far back things go, you know."

"Did you know that most people call me Bella? My Aunt Gina always said it was beautiful. That always got me irritated with her. She was all for nicknames." Isabella giggle lightly, "My Aunt's real name is Virginia. Virginia Cowling. My grandfather is Colton Cowling. Swan, of course, is my father's sirname. Not my mother's. My mother's maiden name was Heathmoc. All that means little, really," She scooped up a bite of her pasta and chewed quickly.

All the while Edward's hands remained folded neatly on the table as he observed. Trying to see where this discussion was going to end. Her pulse was still racing and the pink tinge that had touched her cheeks and had not faded.

"So, that's how things go in our country." She took a sip of wine before continuing, "We take our names from our fathers and so forth. Tracking your male heritage is quite easy because of this. Tracking female lineage is so much more difficult." She ate another bite of food. "In fact, it took me four years to sort through the female side of my family on my mother's half."

Another bite and sip, "I was able to track my lineage back to 1820 on my mother's side, Aneita Lecombe. She was married to Triste Lecombe when they first came to America." She lifted her eyes to meet his. "Triste was actually quite fascinating to learn about. Most people then and now are quite dull. They have kids and they continue on. They work, they're somewhat educated. Some make a name for themselves but the average person does nothing of the sort."

He smiled pleasantly, unsure of what she wanted him to say or do, so he sat and listened.

"Triste and Aneita had two children, a boy and a girl. Tobias and Abigail. Some years later when Tobias was fourteen Triste was boarded up in an asylum citing mental illness. He died soon after of pneumonia, according to the records, anyway. Though I don't quite believe that."

Edward found himself more and more mesmerized by the shape of her mouth as she spoke. The vibration of her throat, her breath in the air.

"I found it to be fascinating, actually. Only by knowing your familial history can you appreciate who you really are. At any rate. Tobias and Abigail were separated. Tobias was older and almost on his own so he was able to work. He lived with his mother in Chicago. Abigail was sent to live with family back east, in Virginia. She eventually married a man named Gilroy. They had kids, those kids married. So on, so forth."

He watched as she pushed her plate away, the muscles of her arm flexing just slightly with the light effort.

"Tobias married Gretta. They had several children. Only, out west things were less pleasant. Several died from illness, one was murdered. Another was imprisoned. Only one continued to have a full and happy life, Richard. Richard fell in love with Rebecca. They had one child together."

She reached her hand across the table, stopping just short of placing her hand on his. "Edward."

He lifted his eyes from her outstretched hand, having lost himself between listening to her and watching her. "Yes, Isabella?"

She narrowed her eyes, her already racing heart sped faster, "No, I meant _Edward._ Richard and Rebecca, their son was named Edward. Edward Masen, your father."

* * *

**A/N: There we go . . . now, try as I might - I don't know how to put it. They're related very distantly. 5th generation descendant for Edward and 7th generation descendant for Isabella. In some other cultures we would have a name for their distant relation to each other and in fact in other countries any relationship with each other would be incestuous since they'd be of the same 'clan' but in the US we give up on those things - they share a common ancestor and that's all.**

**So - love it, hate it? Don't care ;) I contrived my twisted plot and I'm going for it . . . either way, please feel free to tell me what you think.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A Wolf Amidst the Sheep – Chapter 9**

It was interesting, but not an earth shattering revelation. After the hesitation and care to broach the subject he expected something more profound.

"You were worried about how I'd feel about that?"

She drew her hand back quickly, nesting it in her lap. "Well…no," She frowned, "Not exactly."

"With how you led into _that_," His laughter echoed through the barren room, "I thought you'd have a more earth moving revelation of sorts."

"Yes. Well that's just the family tree. What's more interesting are the people."

"By people you mean me? Or Triste, who spent his last years in an asylum like Alice?"

"It wasn't until I found an old collection of journals and diaries that I was able to learn more about his ailment. Doctors described it as having hallucinations. Or, at that time, it was called Acute Delirium. In truth, he was a clairvoyant."

"Really? What in a journal or letter might tell you that?" He tweaked an eyebrow, leaning lightly against the table, "Are you certain it's actually him that it's referring to?"

"They were _family_," She said incredulously, "Edward; they kept in touch with each other over the years. Writing back and forth, Abigail kept a detailed journal. Researching, hoping to fight the diagnosis of her father. She wanted to be able to take over his care, in fact, she just…ran out of time. She even expressed frustration at the fact that his genetic traits hadn't been passed to her, that they seemed to have skipped her entire genera-"

"Ah, I see. You are believing that being…_gifted_…runs in the family, then?"

Rapping her knuckles on the table, her autumnal eyes glinting in the light, "Exactly. Really, it's just obvious. Here we both are."

"I have to tell you, Isabella," Eyes filled with amusement, "That's not much of a surprise."

Isabella's lovely smile grew, "No, I suppose that's not, is it?" As she finished those last two words the amusement dissipated, her expression warmed with concern. "Edward, you know," Adverting her eyes to the table, fingers tracing the grain lines on the surface, "…I think that might be how your Mother…"

Edward sat silent, waiting for her to complete the thought. Realization slowly filtered in like sunlight through the clouds. This was the one thing he always puzzled over, did his mother truly know what he would become? Here was Isabella telling him that it was a high possibility she did know. Elizabeth Masen knew what Carlisle Cullen was because of Triste.

_If_ Isabella was truthful and correct _then_ it was a strong possibility.

Did that mean his Mother pursued it with forethought, planning it out, even? The implications were painful to consider. Tightness built in his chest.

"Yes." She nodded, "Your mother likely knew what Carlisle was for many years."

It was disturbing, unsettling, "But why would…" …_a mother want this for a son?_

Voicing that aloud, however, threatened to highlight the reality. That his Mother possibly meant the best but instead she had turned him into a – creature. Good intentions ending with vile consequences.

This time when Isabella reached her hand forward she rested it lightly on his. A spiked surge of living, pulsing heat coursed through his muscle and tissues. In just a few days he had forgotten the powerful sensation that accompanies her flesh on his skin.

"If you had a child and were faced with their death wouldn't you want them to be well again? Would you do _anything_ to make that happen? Coerce a miracle from God?"

Over all the years this had gone through his mind, he struggled with it. However he looked at it he would always come to the answer of no. No – he would not have knowingly condemned anyone to _this_ life. It was one thing to imagine a fanciful, celebrated life with superior abilities and imortality; but another to live it.

"She didn't dump you into a barbaric world of depravity, Edward," Isabella's voice now returning to that scolding tone Edward was accustomed to, "Elizabeth left you in the caring hands of Carlisle. Knowing that he would help you become something worthwhile."

Her words held an illusion of truth but he couldn't embrace them happily. This was all just subjection and assumptions.

"Of course, I might be wrong about all of this. Perhaps I'm concerned for your mental wellbeing for no reason. I did think that at first, actually, I thought I was off. Entirely wrong, just making up suitable explanations in my head."

"Then what did you come across that brought it all together? Was there something that he knew and told her somehow?"

Isabella sat silent for a minute, eyes on their hands as she slowly stroked the curve of his wrist with her thumb. Waves of deep heat ebbed as her touch swept beneath his skin. It almost felt as if she was stroking her flesh against his hardened bones. It was unbelievably pleasant. He closed his eyes briefly as he took in the sensation.

"What would Alice do?" Raising her eyes to meet his, "No, what _did_ Alice do?"

Edward's mind churned back through every situation, story, and bit of Alice's history that he could think of. Struggling to put these seemingly unrelated issues together. He was missing her point.

"Alice waited for Jasper. _She knew_." Her finger striking the table to punctuate her words, "She didn't know everything but she had faith in her own gift and she just _knew_. She also knew what was to be _after_ waiting for Jasper; finding the family. What would Alice do for the family? Would she ever waste her gift by trying to box it up and ignore it?" She spoke forcefully, "No, if she foresaw a future, a _positive_ future for her kin, even long after her end, she would do what she had to in order to try to make it possible. Wouldn't she?"

Edward could only nod.

"I believe Triste was the same. Others might have considered him to be mentally impaired and imbalanced but he knew otherwise. Abigail did, too. She didn't write it down but it was obvious her belief in his clairvoyance was unshakable. He had faith in his gift and he did what he felt was necessary."

"So, again," His mood was going sour, "I'm spoiling my gift, my life, and just throwing it all away?"

"No, you're just…_viewing_…it differently."

"Isabella," Withdrawing his hand from under hers, "This is all very…interesting…but I can't bring myself to see it that way."

Nodding, "I just thought you should know that there might be more to it. More to your Mother."

"It's definitely something I've put a lot of thought into. I'm not sure how much this will affect anything but it is good to know that there might be something more."

She patted his hand gingerly, a chaste, modest touch before gathering her dishes. He stood as she did. Long over were his days of being human but those same chivalrous values he was raised with were still there. Buried deep, but there.

"Can I read it, sometime?"

"Of course," She turned to look at him, "Of course you can. I feel sort of bad for not bringing them with me when I moved, actually."

He watched as she made her way quickly around the kitchen to wash her dishes and put them away into boxes and containers. The care she took to pack up her ailing Aunt's belongings was bittersweet.

Standing, he watched her go about her chores silently. Listening to the rustle of the fabric as she flexed and twisted, the softness of her feet vibrating through the floor. Yet now he felt nothing but a sad, hollow distance. An ache. In many ways he cared about her deeply, spite all of her issues and problems. She seemed to care about him in some way. Her own evasive, distanced, distracted sort of way.

Though, he didn't understand her well enough to change anything about her, yet. He had to, he needed to bring her out of this darkness she was in. It felt imperative to his very nature to bring her into a brighter light.

"Edward, are you…" She began then shook her head as she turned to tape shut a box of kitchenware.

"What is it, Isabella?"

"It's nothing."

"If it was nothing then you wouldn't have said my name."

She stopped mid motion. Her heart rate quickened. Edward could smell her panic in the air just as she cleared her throat, "Is that right?" Trying to sound calm and collect was fruitless. She was rattled by this little revelation of his.

Smiling a little as he realized that he was slowly, very slowly, beginning to understand Isabella Swan.

"Yes, every serious statement or point you have you accent your sentence with my name."

"Oh? I never realized," Slowly she placed the tape roll on the counter.

Hesitantly, he stepped towards her. This time he had no ulterior motive behind touching her. Not like the last time when he used the touch of his lips and fingers to pry truths from her. He _needed_ to touch her. A small bit of physical contact, something. Anything to close the distance and cease the ache that he felt where his heart once beat in his chest.

Quickly, no doubt sensing his intentions she stood straight. Composing herself, "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I'm going to have to head to bed for the night. Tomorrow starts early and I have a bit more I need to do before they arrive."

Avoiding his eyes as she gave a polite smile and walked around him.

He reached out for her, wrapping his hand gently around her arm, "Wait."

She froze, her eyes slid closed. Heart beating wildly, her skin pebbled lightly from his icy touch.

"We need to talk."

"Tomorrow would be better."

"No, now, tonight."

"I'm really quite tired, Edward. I know there are other things we need to talk about. It's going to have to wait."

"No, it can't. You'll be busy, tomorrow. In fact, I have a feeling that we won't have a moment alone all day."

Her jaw tensed as she looked at him, narrowing her eyes with irritation.

"Conveniently so, because this is something I know you _don't_ want to talk about." His eyes fell to his hand as he slid it down to her wrist. Her skin always felt so soft, smooth and perfect. "It's something you simply want to run away from. To ignore, deny, and bury as if it will go away. Though it won't."

He inhaled deeply, venom stung at his throat and tongue, but at the same time it was delightful. He thought back to their first conversation in the forest outside of Forks, "This…_tension_…between us? It's not going to end, ease or dissipate." Without thinking he leaned towards her, the tip of his nose barely touching the nape of her neck. Shuddering, she tried to pull away as he pressed a small, light kiss to her flesh.

"Stop, Edward. We shouldn't be like this together. I know I might have misled you the other day but I really mean it when I say we _can't_ be that way."

Irritation rippled through him, "I remembered what you said," he spit out harshly. The words echoed loudly.

"I remember _every_ word that has ever slipped between your lips." He stepped behind her as he wrapped his arm around her waist, resting his fingers on her hip. Clasping her wrist with the other, "I remember how you felt when I pulled you close to me. I remember the taste of your tears that came when you were faced with _feeling_ something. Your _scent_ and how it deepens when you're aroused, like it is now."

"You're being unfair."

"Unfair, am I? Why, because you can't think when I do this?" He trailed his tongue along the vertebrae of her neck.

Isabella held her breath, her body tensed.

"Unfair, Isabella, is how you know so much and I know absolutely nothing but the scraps you feed me. I'm like a dog tethered to a post."

She shrugged away from his embrace, turning to face him. Eyes glittering with the moonlight that streamed through the bare window, "I do _not_ treat you like that."

He leveled his gaze at her, raising his brow. "You don't? Everything about us, whatever we are, is revolving around you. You're blazing the way here," He motioned widely in the air, "Meanwhile, you're pretending that there is no US."

Saying nothing, she scowled at wall just over his shoulder.

"I'm following Esme's advice, here," he said while slipping one hand into his pant pocket, "I decided that what I want is to simply be with you, Isabella. You, not your internal dilemma's. You, not your penchant for murder and all your many elusive hat-tricks. Just you."

"You talked to Esme about me?" She asked, anger in her eyes.

Exasperated, he threw his hands up, "Do you even realize when you do it or does it just come naturally to you? Because it's a pretty impressive talent. You just barricade off the unwanted topic and sidestep it like a minefield."

"Is tomorrow really so far way for you?"

"That fiery light in your eyes tells me you're wide awake." It was his turn to point an accusative finger in her direction, "You slept today for five hours. _You_ simply want to avoid it. For how long? A week? A month? Perhaps a decade?" He stepped closer to her, "Because I think on that front I can probably outlast you."

His eyes bore into hers, he willed her to sense his emotions. To understand how much he needed her to let him in. The distance would only grow and become more intolerable if she didn't. The thought of continuing a cold relationship with Isabella was less than palatable. After one-hundred years of being a man unto himself he needed to share his life with someone else. Going back to how things were before Isabella walked into the forest and his life was frightening.

By all accounts, he reminded himself, he shouldn't be able to stand so close to her with her delectable flavor in the air. Her racing pulse just under the thin of her skin, and let her live. If he can put aside his lust for her blood to just be with her after, even after all that she had done to anger and push him away, then she could put aside her comforts for his sake.

"Why does it concern you, anyway?" He asked, "Are you honestly worried about what she thinks of you?"

Isabella's cheeks fell as blankness overtook her features. That said it all. She cared _very_ much what others thought of her.

"She's worried about the danger you've put the family in, for one thing. She's also worried about you and your soul. You still have one, you know."

Isabella cleared her throat, "No, Edward." Her voice ringing out like a deadened bell, "I don't believe I do, anymore."

"Oh, I see," he said, mocking her hollow tone, "Too heartless? No, you're not heartless or else you wouldn't be here carefully packing up Aunt Gina's belongings that are only to be gifted to charity. Don't forget, Isabella. I'm the only soulless monster, here. Yet, I still _feel._"

* * *

**A/N: Ok - so more with the slow development. Are things sort of filling out for everyone or am I doing a horrible job of stringing everyone a long? :) I hope you'r enjoying and maybe still playing the sleuth and trying to figure out what she still won't talk about.**

**If I had her secret I wouldn't fare so well - I'm tempted to write the reveal into every chapter. LOL All in good time!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A Wolf Amidst the Sheep – Chapter 10**

Edward was alone at the dining room table, occupying Isabella's seat. He traced the grain lines with his fingers - around and around. Processing the events of the evening; the troublesome ideas that Isabella had presented. It was disturbing that his mother knew what he would become, possibly for years. Then why hadn't she left him a sign, given him some guidance about his life?

_Edward_.

Jasper's voice in Edward's mind snapped him from contemplation.

_It's just me. Is it ok for me to talk to you?_

"Yes," Edward spoke quiet and quickly.

_In the woods._

Before the sentence was complete Edward was outside under the dark shroud of the tree line. His brother's firm form was clad with the casual clothes of a well kempt high school student.

"This is unexpected. Alice isn't with you?"

_No. It's just me._

"Why are you here?" Edward tried to pry into his mind but was blocked with an impenetrable wall.

_Where is _she_?_

"Inside, sleeping. Why are you here?"

_We shouldn't talk here._ Jasper turned and made his way through the timbers.

"Jasper," Edward said as he follow, "I don't think where we are will matter much."

_The girl doesn't have super hearing? She's not one of us._

"Her name's Isabella."

_I know. _Even in thought Jasper's voice was sharp and harsh.

Edward refused to go further away from the house. Every time he was apart from her she slipped through the cracks. It was a tired cat and mouse routine and he was always the one caught in the end.

"What is this about, then? It's good to see you but from your demeanor, tone and silence I can tell this isn't a friendly, family visit."

_You're right, it's not. Nothing gets by you when it comes to _me_. But tell me, Edward, just how much have you learned from the girl about herself?_

"Not much, actually. She's a puzzle box. I take it you probably know something I don't?"

Edward's attention was caught by a shift in Isabella's breathing. She was only stirring in her sleep.

_She's been following the family for four years._

Jasper flipped through a series of papers in his mind. Page after page of incriminating credit card statements, written notes, phone calls, ticket reservations, hotel accommodations. Travel to the states of Alaska, Oregon, Washington, Wisconsin, Illinois, Maine, Florida.

Jasper thought through various Cullen family travel itinerary sheets and receipts to align the dates and times. Every length of travel fell into alignment with the Cullen's. Edward's own solitary travel to Colorado and New York State was especially alarming. Checking in at neighboring hotels, flights within one day of each other. Always a distance of space and a sliver of time between the two of them but they were never far apart – according to this mass array of records.

The stream of information was lengthy, leaving Edward struggling to grasp it all. He shook his head, his voice tensing with irritation, "No, that makes no sense. Why do you think that's really all for her? Seems extreme. Four years ago she was 14. Doubtful she was traveling alone. If at all."

_Nothing about her makes sense. Why was she following us, then, do you suppose? Why did she wait all this time before coming forward? On top of that, if she has pure intentions why is she so secretive about it all?_

Edward pushed this reasoning away from his mind, "I really don't think that she's been doing all of that. At least not alone." His denial was thin. There was no one else in Isabella's world.

Jasper shrugged. _Of course you're not listening to reason and approaching this logically. You told Rosalie yourself you didn't trust the girl. Now you're defending her?_

"How did you go about finding that sort of information?"

The question was unnecessary; J. Jenks and others the family relied on for legal papers, forms and research.

_You need to leave, Edward, go back home. There's more to talk about with Alice and Carlisle. _

"Why?" Edward bristled, stepping away from his brother, "So you can finish her off as if she's a threat to you?"

_She _is_ a threat. To me, to you, the entire family._

Spurred with a slice of anger Edward raised his voice, "No, she's not. She can't threaten the family lest she risk her own exposure. Her ability, as a human, puts her in a considerable amount of danger."

_Are you so sure about that? She successfully followed us undetected around the US and possibly further than that. I think that puts her into the threat category._

"Things are different now."

_Why, because you've _touched_ her?_

Edward shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

_Or is it because you and her have had a sweet heart to heart moment after she slaughtered her victim right in front of you?_

Edward adverted his eyes away from his brothers scrutinizing glare. His emotions, however, were something he could not block.

_Yes, I sensed it over the weeks. You're lusting for much more than her blood. 'Thinking with the wrong head,' Emmett said. I only hoped he wasn't right._

Edward hissed through clenched teeth, "It's not that I don't respect your views or consider you to be lying, Jasper. It's that I don't-"

_Care? Because truly that's what it's come down to. Alice was right, you're lost in the girl's little world already._

Edward was flooded with Jasper's memories of him and Alice arguing. She chastised Jasper, _"It's pointless. It's like he's snared in a trap. Talking won't do any good. He'll come around, _later._ Just let it go for now."_

It sent a twisting wave of hurt through Edward. He had given little time in his thoughts for anyone aside himself and Isabella. Cleaving his family apart over this was never his intention.

"Jasper," he sighed, deciding now to let his brother into his thoughts in an effort to reach an understanding, "She's like me. How I was. I can't just turn my back on that. It wasn't too late for me and it's not too late for her."

Jasper nodded, _I know, Edward. That's the only reason why the family hasn't done much to intervene. I just can't see it the way you do. There's more to her than a jilted mind, Edward. She's cold, calculated. I wouldn't trust her with a needle and thread to stitch my pocket._

"So, she's just the enemy, then?"

_They always say to keep your enemies closer. Call, Brother, when you need help._ Jasper drew Edward in for a quick embrace. _I'll be in Chicago until my flight leaves tonight. _With that he turned away and left.

~x~X~x~

Isabella woke hours later, hastily dressing in her usual ensemble; purple coat and black boots. She quickly packed her personal luggage, Edward helped her to carry it downstairs. She was careful to not meet his eyes or speak. It was an awkward, tense silence.

Edward knew there was no point in trying to discuss anything with her. However her ability worked, she no doubt knew of Jasper's visit and the information regarding her activities that he had divulged.

A taxi-cab arrived at seven. Edward held the door for her as she slid into the back seat. Isabella handed the cabbie a slip of paper with their destination written on it. Edward sat quietly next to her, catching the driver's eyes in the rearview mirror. The driver nodded a hello.

"You don't have to sit and steep, Isabella."

She said nothing, but only gazed out the window as rain began to hammer the roof of the car.

"Are you going to tell me why you followed us all of these years?"

Silence, his frustration deepened.

"How about I ask questions and you respond with silence, if I'm right."

No response, he clenched his jaw tightly.

"You're an agent from an organization hired to keep tabs on us?"

More silence.

"I'm right, then? You're not answering, that's a silent agreement," he smiled at his vain attempt to draw her out.

Sighing softly, "Don't be ridiculous. I am not discussing this with you, _now._" She motioned quickly with her lapped forefinger towards the cabbie in the front seat.

"Oh, so the silent-treatment this morning was purely to annoy me?" He chuffed, "It worked, I'm annoyed."

More time passed, Edward's mind wandered as it always did to more pleasant thoughts, all centering around Isabella.

Eventually, they arrived at the care facility to visit Aunt Virginia. Isabella leaned forward to ask the driver to wait for an hour and slipped him a sizable tip.

Once the door was shut they darted to the building, the rain had begun to pour more steadily.

He watched with fascination as she jostled her coat to flick off beaded drops of water. Moist tendrils of hair clung to her forehead and neck. "Isabella. Would you be with me if I was human?"

She turned to face him, the calm mask she wore shifted to one of concern. Her eyebrows creased, a slight frown, "Please don't do that to yourself. You know that's not the reason why."

"It's not because we're distant relatives. It's not because I'm a vampire. It's not even because you're always seeking out ways to satisfy your own blood lust Why is it? Is there someone else?" The question felt sour coming from his tongue, but her private life was still a mystery.

The corner of her mouth turned upward into a half-smile, "No, I'm not seeing anyone else. You're the closest thing I have to a friend or otherwise." She sat on a bench tucked into the front entrance alcove, "It really isn't obvious to you, is it?"

He shook his head no.

"Your family, even Rosalie, are very caring people. I believe at some point you and your family and even I could sort of come together amid some type of pleasant arrangement. There are others of your kind, though, who wouldn't be as understanding or accepting. I won't have you flouncing behind my every step to protect me when all that's necessary is mere distance and silence to keep everyone safe."

"I risked a lot coming to Forks and getting involved with you. In fact, I shouldn't have done it. I should have always maintained some sort of distance between us. I just couldn't do it anymore."

"Do what," He ruffled his hand through his hair, "follow me and my family around the world?"

Quietly laughing as she toed the cement with her boot, "I couldn't stay away from you, anymore."

He laughed derisively, "My! I imagined that stalking everyone in the Cullen family around the world was evidence of doing everything to close the gap. I never would have guessed that was anyone's idea of staying away."

"I had reasons. It wasn't to spy on any of you. I'm sure right now the family thinks I'm out for some type of vengeance, plotting some type of destruction for all of you. I swear I'm not." She looked up at him, eyes brimming with tears. "I care very much for the family and I know that nothing makes sense, at all. I've sort of dug this little pit for everyone. All of this wasn't supposed to happen. They weren't supposed to know."

He sat next to her. Taking her soft, small hand in his, marveling at what those hands could really do. She seemed so delicate, like a precious china doll.

"You could have simply come to the house an said hi, you know?"

Squeezing his hand with hers, her voice was tense, "When I was five my Mother thought I was sick. _I_ thought I was sick. I wasn't like the other kids in kindergarten. Sometimes the ability I have would cause problems."

His body relaxed with relief. Just as he had hoped, there was something more to Isabella that her frigid nature.

"Kids are perceptive," she wiped tears from her cheeks, "and mean. I learned very quickly that I was different and not in a good way. So I had to take control of myself, of it, and I learned how to be more normal. To fit in more and not let my ability stand out. It was confusing and frightening but if I talked to anyone about it they wouldn't have believed me."

Edward knew this all too well. It was a struggle for his family to blend in, and they had each other.

"Even after all of that, it was still a problem. I grew tired of trying to fit in. Trying to be normal. I use to spend my time praying that it would go away so I could be like everyone else. I didn't want it, it served me no purpose. I was five, then eight, then thirteen. It was always there." She smiled slightly, "Sounds like you, hunh?"

He smiled in return.

"I always hoped that one day it would go away. I'd wake up the day after my birthday and check and, _sure enough_, it was still there. It only grew stronger. I began to wonder if my ability was even real. It was hard to tell. It became more clear, more precise and I thought I was really sick with a brain tumor or maybe I was schizophrenic. It became harder to ignore, to shove aside." She looked at him with a troubled expression, "After a while I just couldn't do it anymore. The stronger it became the harder it was for me to sleep at night. And my diet, oh heavens, it made eating actually a challenge. I know that makes little sense but it really caused a serious problem with that. I lost weight. I had to start sleeping during the day when it was a little less troublesome, eating at night."

Alice came to mind, how her gift turned her towards their vegetarian lifestyle. Seeing someone's future disappear into nothing because of her need to feed was a dire negative.

"I had an off year, a wretched summer and quit public school, which didn't help get rid of it but it made it easier to fit in. Rigid rules and expectations were better in private school. Things were more manageable, silence was treasured and spending my time away from everyone was perfectly acceptable."

"It wasn't until I was thirteen and on a trip with my mother that all the pieces fell into place. I ran into someone that made me realize I wasn't insane or struggling with a mental disorder. That my curse could really be used for something. But it had a purpose of some type. It just was very hard to manage. I figured it out, though, and when I actually did something positive with it, and I don't mean killing a twisted pedophile, mind you. But for the first time in my life I felt…OK. I actually did something to help someone else out and they were happy. They didn't know, of course, but I felt OK after that."

"Just ok?"

"Just OK." She coughed to clear her throat, "How would you have handled being able to read minds if you were just a human child?"

He could imagine it all too well. Even as a mature vampire he struggled with it constantly. "Is that what you can do, read people's minds? Like me?"

Isabella laughed sweetly, "No, Edward, I can't read people's minds, like you." Still laughing, she stood. "Let's go see my Aunt." Her eyes were bright and warm, that happy gleam was back. However fleeting, Edward loved her pleasant side the most.

~x~X~x~

Inside the care facility a middle-aged man sat behind the reception desk. They were surrounded by dusty faux plants and florals. The taupe walls were decorated with painted scenes of places the residence would likely no longer see. Absorbed in paperwork, the man had yet to look up and see the two standing there.

"Bells!" The man's tense expression exploded into happiness when his eyes met hers. He stepped around the counter to quickly draw her into a warm embrace.

"Carmine, it's great to see you." Her happiness seemed genuine as it touched her flushed cheeks.

"Here to see Aunt Virginia but I get the first hug." A memory of Isabella as a young girl running and jumping into his open arms came to mind. She was always his favorite. The thought made Edward smile. They walked together across the entry-room and into a hallway.

"Whose this?" Carmine asked, motioning to Edward, as they made their way down the corridor. Their footsteps muffled by carpeting.

"This is Edward," she motioned to Edward behind her, "He's family."

While passing an open window Carmine eyed Edward's reflection cautiously. _Definitely not from around here._ Edward suppressed a laugh.

They approached the far end of the corridor, Room 72.

"Thank you."

"Of course." Carmine kissed Isabella on the cheek and waved to Edward as he left.

She stood at the doorway to her Aunt's room, straightening her coat and needlessly smoothing out her damp hair. She took a deep breath, in a voice barely above a whisper she said, "She knows."

Just as Edward was processing the heft of that simple statement the door opened. They were greeted by the aged, smiling eyes of a short, thin woman with dark skin. Clad with a silken ivory dress and a lace shawl draped over her shoulders, a cane crooked over her arm.

"Bella!" The elderly woman chittered with delight as she clasped Isabella and drew her close for a tight, firm hug. Gripping and rocking her body side to side, patting her back. After this warm, deep embrace Isabella was set free and stepped inside.

Edward was unsure of what to do, he didn't know what to call her or how to approach her. Did Isabella mean she knew he was a vampire or she knew he could read minds? Or, of all thing, did she know Isabella had a dark hobby?

As he tried to gleam answers from her mind he was frustrated to find that she was just as silent as Isabella.

Aunt Virginia threw her head back with a gruff laugh, "Oh, Isabella, he's in shock. You should have told him sooner."

"I know. I told him a lot, though, just a few minutes ago."

"Come in, come in," Aunt Virginia ushered Edward inside, patting his back as he passed.

"Sit. Coffee?"

Isabella made her way to the kitchen, "let me get it."

"Absolutely not. It might not be much of a place to live but it's my home." Her accent carried a lilting cadence. "I'm old and walk with a cane but I can make some coffee for my dearest niece." She turned towards Edward, "Of course, none for you." Her eyes gleamed with delight.

"No, no thank you." His eyes traveled around the room as he sat near Isabella on the couch. For a retirement home of sorts it was actually quite nice. Aunt Virginia lived in a small suite complete with a living room, kitchen and a few doors along the back wall.

The living room was decorated with numerous potted plants. The scent of fronds, leaves, pollen and soil filled the air. An indoor arboretum. The sitting area was a single couch with a grouping of chairs on either side. Coffee table in the middle but no television.

"So, Edward," Aunt Virginia spoke from behind the kitchen island while stirring the coffee in one cup, "Everyone calls me Aunt Gina."

"Of course, Aunt Gina. Thank you." He smiled.

"So, I imagine you can't stay long. Today's the big day, isn't it?" She made her way to the couch, coffees in on hand, cane in the other.

"Yes, it is," Isabella took her mug, clasping it in her hands, breathing in the warm aroma.

Aunt Virginia made her way to a chair, "Everything packed and ready to go?"

Isabella nodded, "Yes Ma'am."

"Good, good. When they said they were going to hire a crew of _men_ to come in and do it I knew that calling you was my only hope."

Laughing sweetly as she replied, "Everything's packed neatly, don't worry. I'll keep a close eye on the moving company when they come, too."

"You better," she waggled her finger.

"Edward, it is nice to meet you though it's so unexpected," She lifted her eyes to meet his, "Isabella didn't mention you coming."

"It was an unplanned trip for me." He hoped a polite smile would suffice rather than give a longer explanation as to the hows and whys of his visit.

"I see. Are you ok now that you've had a moment to take it all in?"

"Yes, it was just a surprise."

"The Lecombe clan is _full_ of surprises. You needn't be concerned. I've known about you and your family for my whole life. It's only Isabella and I who know, though. Others are very much in the dark."

After a sip of her coffee she eyed Isabella, who shook her head slightly with a no. Edward focused himself once again on Aunt Virginia to try to break through her mental barrier.

Her soft green eyes met Edward's gaze, "I gather you just recently came to know Isabella, then?"

"Yes, Aunt Gina. Just recently."

"Ah," her eyebrows knit together as she looked at Edward again, "So I take it that she hasn't told you that she can-"

"Virginia!"

Aunt Virginia laughed, "I take that as a no!"

Edward scowled at Isabella who only shot him an apologetic smile. Perhaps Aunt Virginia would be helpful in filling in all of Isabella's blanks, if Isabella wasn't with them.

* * *

**A/N: Well shame Aunt Virginia for almost failing to keep a secret! And it seems that while Edward was suffering in the treetops - Jasper and others have been digging deep into Isabella's past. I wonder what else they found that Jasper didn't share.**

**Isabella - well - it sounds like her grasp on her world is slipping. Shame on her for creating so much tension in the family that she cares about from some sort of strange distance! ****Now you know more about her life - and what she's been up to. . .and while that still leaves a lot of questions unanswered it does explain a few things at the same time (I hope!)**

**Let me know what you're thinking with a review :)**


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